


It Needs Work

by Freckledbun



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alcohol, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, BDSM, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Bukkake, Cannibalism, Character Death, Chikan, Claustrophobia, Crossdressing, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Erotic Electrostimulation, Feet, Food Porn, Gun Kink, Hallucinations, Incest, M/M, Master/Pet, Masturbation, Murder, NaNoWriMo 2017, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Harm, Stalking, Vore, temporary sex slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-01-28 13:38:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 52,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12607836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freckledbun/pseuds/Freckledbun
Summary: Akira knows without a shadow of a doubt that he and Akechi are meant to be together. That is, until he meets Akechi face to face.A Persona 5 AU where none of the magic happened, everyone is crazy, and fact is stranger than fiction. A tale of Akechi's biggest fan, Akira, their fated meeting, and the subsequent fallout. Join us for laughter, violence, drugs, money, and sex.





	1. Chapter 1

Akira Kurusu had a dark secret.

He was a quiet boy who generally didn’t make many waves. He had one prolific year where he was on probation for a minor infraction, but he’d kept his head down, served his probation, and returned home at the end to his sleepy Kansai hometown. He had made some friends while living in a Tokyo coffee shop attic and kept up with them online after moving. Every once in a while he’d make the trip to Shibuya to see them, but the trips had dwindled to once a year now that the majority of them were in college. His secret was hidden from even them, his closest companions.

It had all started during his probation year during their class trip to the TV studio. Akira had seen the famously handsome, Goro Akechi, the second coming of the Detective Prince. Something just clicked that day. There was a growing hunger in him. He needed to see more. He needed to know everything about him. Akechi was his soul mate. 

When he got home that night, the group chat was a-buzz with discussions about Akechi and this just fueled Akira’s curiosity even more. He couldn’t get the boy out of his head. He got on the laptop he’d rebuilt himself from spare parts to look up the dashing detective. 

Akechi had his own fan site; multiple fan sites in fact. He had forums to discuss his exploits and pages and pages dedicated to pictures and videos of his TV appearances and interviews. He had his own food blog that showcased his favorite places to eat and there were paparazzi sites that posted gossip surrounding him. 

One thing Akira found in the depths of his internet stalking was that apparently fans would write stories about him on fanfiction sites. He had to laugh at that. It was so childish that he had to read some for fun. A few days later, he read some more after he’d exhausted all the legitimate Akechi content he could find. Pretty soon he was staying up all night reading dirty fanfic with his hands down his pants. He didn’t even realize the pit he’d fallen into until the sun was coming up and leaking through the crack in his curtains. 

Once the gravity of what had happened set in, Akira cleared his browser history in shame, slammed his laptop shut, and groggily cleaned himself up for a very long day of school. He spent the whole day distracted by exhaustion and lust, but his friends hardly paid him any mind. He was normally quiet and that had played to his advantage. Once home, Akira somehow finished his homework, but then went straight back to consuming everything written about Akechi ever. He was only slightly obsessed. 

He did have one complaint about all the fanfictions written about Akechi. His issue was that Akechi was his soul mate and therefore had to be gay; bi at least. But all the stories only had him with women. Akira couldn’t agree with this. Someone had to be the champion that recognized a gay prince when they saw one. He realized if he wanted something, no one else was going to do it for him. Akira would have to be that champion. 

Finally, after musing about his dilemma for a few days, Akira decided he would write his own story. He was running out of good content and had delved into some weird shit but was getting bored looking at mediocre trash. He’d write one short story, just for himself, while he waited for the better writers to update the more engaging stories. No one even had to read his work. At least it would be written well, being that he was top of his class and also that he now knew everything about Akechi there was to know. He’d get his characterization down just right. 

That night he sat down and wrote a short, one thousand word fic, in which Akechi started investigating a devilish trickster calling himself ‘Joker.’ Joker stole people’s most prized possessions. The twist was that Joker would steal from criminals like him and get them to confess their crimes. Akechi, a paragon of morality, pursued him anyway; intent on proving that vigilante justice was not real justice. He wanted to prove that to Joker most of all. He almost caught him in the story, but was left in the middle of the road, alone, clutching one of Joker’s red gloves. He swore he’d find him and bring him to justice under a flickering streetlight. It was symbolic of his failure and resolve. 

Akira was quite proud of his own writing and decided to share it on one of the fanfiction sites. Maybe if people liked it, more BL stories with Akechi would be written and his hunger would be satisfied once the ball was rolling. He was a bit too timid to write his own porn but that lingering urge in him craved it. 

He posted the story under the name ‘Joker,’ realizing that his thief character was sort of like his inner rebellious boy. Also he did want to bang Akechi and bake cookies off his abs, so he wasn’t ashamed to admit, a least anonymously, that his story was totally a love letter. If other people could write self-inserts, so could he. Right? 

What Akira wasn’t expecting was the comments that he woke up to that morning. There was hate coming from heterosexual purists that he pretty much ignored. But he also received several comments asking for more of Akechi’s adventures trying to catch Joker. Akira was shocked that people liked it enough to want more. He had just wanted people to realize Akechi was gay and go write porn more catered to his interests. He didn’t think anyone would want to actually hear about his self-insert. Maybe this was a sign that Akechi really was meant for him. Well if his five followers wanted more, he could certainly deliver. 

Akira wrote another short encounter between Akechi and Joker. Joker was a worth rival to Akechi’s prowess. He was always one step ahead of the detective, but also always on the verge of being caught. Akira enjoyed writing a mystery for the two of them to get tangled up in and a worse villain for Akechi to be distracted by. This allowed Joker to slip away, but not without longing glances from the two fated enemies. 

This went on for months and Akira started to actually get sort of popular. He had some loyal fans that would comment on all of his chapters and was getting more and more people liking his works by the day. He had expanded his cast of characters do to necessity. While not incredibly original, he based the expanded troupe on his friends, calling them the ‘Phantom Thieves of Heart.’ The new team was needed to outwit Akechi due to him always being so close to apprehending Joker. He was too good a detective for one man to continue to fool alone.

As the school year came to a close, Akira actually ended up at the top of his class, and the school, along with the friends who weren’t graduating, begging him to stay. He shook his head and decided it would be best to return to Inaba and complete his last year of high school near his family. He left after a tearful goodbye party and was welcomed back home with open arms as a reformed good-boy. His parents even let him keep his stray cat, Morgana that he’d been taking care of all year. They didn’t need to know that sometimes he’d hold Morgana up by the armpits and pretend that he could talk. Akira was a strange kid but no one really realized it. He figured as long as he got good grades and acceptance to a good university, that it didn’t matter what he did in private, even if it was write fantasy stories about a celebrity or have conversations with his cat or thin air.

A year later he was leaving to go to a prestigious university and everyone was proud of him. He’d gone from politician punching degenerate, to a respectable valedictorian. Akira’s future seemed bright and he was equally excited about his internet notoriety, if he were being honest. In the two years since he’d started his fanfiction, he’d amassed a small army of followers and he’d ultimately gotten his greatest desire, which was people were writing slash-fic of Akechi and he could finally jerk off to his true love in a proper scenario. He even saw fics of Akechi and Joker thanks to his e-fame and he ate those right up. He imagined Akechi, sweet sweet Akechi, actually wanted him like that and it made his heart sing and his dick ache. 

Of course, Akira had experimented sexually already, plenty of times, actually. He wasn’t a shut in and he was up for a good time. Just, in his heart of hearts, his one true love was his sexy, crime-solving angel. His friends knew he was sort of a slut since he made no attempt to hide his healthy appetite for sex, but none of them had ever asked him out. Perhaps they’d realized he was emotionally unavailable despite his willingness to fool around with all of them. It was better if they thought that anyway. So he was almost 19 and had never really dated but knew his way around all sorts of adult equipment. When the day came for him to confess his love to Akechi, he would be the perfect lover and sweep him off his feet. 

So that left Akira in present day, where he was alone in college. He had returned to Tokyo but was so far away from his companions. All he had was his cat and his extremely popular fanfiction; his dark secret. No one knew he was actually Joker and no one knew that sometimes his muse would visit him while he was spacing out. Akechi would come to him and inspire him, take all his cares away, and love him for who he really was. Too bad he wasn’t real. Who needed a real boyfriend anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is my NaNoWriMo fic for this year. I'm not editing it at all so you're going to get a ton of updates but it might not be amazing ever. I'll get back to the good fics when my beta has some more free time so I can bring that quality content to you.
> 
> For now, enjoy this steaming pile of shit. This fic is dedicated to everyone who played P5 and wanted to fuck the whole cast and also those of you who like dark, depraved garbage. I have no idea where I'm going but it definitely won't be good.
> 
> See you tomorrow!


	2. Chapter 2

“Akechi loomed over Joker, tilting his chin up with his gloved fingers. He finally had caught his rival and planned on taking his time debasing his perfectly wrapped present, the prize he’d won for his success.” Akira read aloud an excerpt from his newest chapter, the chapter in which his slow burn finally bore fruit; where Akechi would finally uncover Joker’s true identity and they would have the sex.

“I think you’re making me too aggressive,” a familiar voice mused, tickling Akira’s ears with his soft tone. It was his approximation of Akechi, the imaginary boy who had been there for him for the better part of two years now. This was his version of Akechi.

“What? No, it’s supposed to be sexy,” Akira said, arguing with the ghost on his bed from over in his computer chair.

“Yes and it is very sexy. But would I really touch a criminal in that way?”

“I’m – He’s your rival. He completes you.” Akira frowned. Akechi was so pure; apparently too pure for cop and robber sex. That was a bummer.

“Look, roleplay is one thing, but this sort of behavior has no place during an arrest. Besides, if Joker is captured, won’t he go to jail now and that’s the end of the story? That is disappointing…”

“Okay okay.” Akira put his hands up in defeat. “Instead of ending it right here, I’ll have you take him into your custody and Joker will seduce you, rather than you seducing him.”

“Better,” Akechi smiled and crossed his legs. “I think that’s sexier anyway.”

Akira nodded and went back to writing. Akechi was always there to critique his work and make it more accurate. He would probably thank his muse in the author’s comments section if it wouldn’t make him seem crazy. He had never met the real Akechi after all but he felt like they were kindred spirits. He wanted them to always be together. He knew it was pretend but he loved his imaginary boyfriend anyway. The real Akechi would obviously never pay him, a country bumpkin with a criminal record, any mind. He was a commoner, so this would be all he would get. He was fine pretending. He did have a very vivid imagination to pretend with after all.

As Akira wrote, Akechi got up and stepped over to him. He draped his arms around Akira to hug him close from behind and leaned his chin on his shoulder. Akechi started to whisper hotly in Akira’s ear.

“I’m sorry you don’t get your seduction fantasy. Do you want to do it with me instead?” He clearly wanted to make up for throwing out all of Akira’s plans.

Akira’s face flushed red and he nodded with a shiver.

“I’ve finally caught you, Joker~” Akechi purred to him. He spun his chair around and grabbed Akira’s limp wrists. “Now I’m going to teach you the meaning of Justice.” He pulled Akira to his feet and led him by the wrists to the bed, shoving him down playfully. He started to loosen his tie and smiled to the fluffy boy he was looming over. “Strip.”

Akira complied with the command immediately, fumbling out of his long sleeve shirt and wriggling out of his pants. Both articles were discarded onto the floor and Akechi’s hands were on him before he could even blink. Akechi straddled him and threaded fingers in his hair, lavishing him with attention. He pulled him into a deep kiss, tangling their tongues together and nipping at his bottom lip. His lips lingered against Akira’s as he cupped his erection with his free hand and started rubbing him languidly through his boxers. He pulled back to watch Akira squirm under him with a soft, sincere smile.

“Ah~” Akira rutted up against that hand and clutched Akechi’s shoulders. He let out a long, needy groan. He had been writing some pretty hot scenes all afternoon and was already ready to go. He wanted more than this; he wanted to merge together. He buried his face in Akechi’s chest and whined pathetically. “Please take me.”

“So greedy,” Akechi teased with a chuckle, continuing to fondle his captive and stroke his hair gently. He seemed to be intent on getting him off on the barest of touches. How cruel. “Everyone else bends to your will. Maybe it’s time I teach you to be patient.” Akechi sounded like a glimmering cherub, even while making threats. He was truly a divine being.

When Akira came to, he was lying alone in his bed, hands sticky with his own jizz and boxers now in need of a trip to the washing machine. He glanced over and saw Morgana cleaning his face with his paw. The cat looked up and Akira spoke for him, using his cat voice. “You’re pathetic.”

Akira frowned and sat up, wiping his hands off on his boxers, and responding to the cat’s remarks. “I’d happily delete my whole story for just one date with the real Akechi. Stop judging me. Pretending isn’t my ideal either.”

“Meow. Well we’re back in Tokyo now. Maybe you’ll run into him and sparks will fly,” ‘Morgana’ suggested. He went back to cleaning himself and stopped staring at his filthy owner so Akira stopped talking for him. Morgana made a good point though. His top college pick landed him directly in the Akechi-Zone. Akira knew all of the detective’s favorite spots. If he frequented them enough he might end up acquiring a rare sighting of the person that lit his soul on fire.

He could imagine it now. The two of them would meet and Akechi would remember him from the TV studio. They’d discuss their favorite foods and their political opinions. Akira obviously would have everything in common with the detective and so they would become fast friends. Soon enough, they’d fall in love, get married, fuck constantly, and raise ten children together, each smarter and more beautiful than the last. On Akira’s deathbed, Akechi would be by his side, holding his hand and vowing revenge on their enemies with that serious demeanor he had when the situation was somber. They’d meet again in heaven and never be apart again.

And Akira flopped back on the bed, head hitting the pillow hard after round two of jerking off to the thought of his prince. He shook his head and groaned in frustration. Even if he didn’t find Akechi, he needed to get laid. That meant he needed to reconnect with his friends. He couldn’t keep doing this, masturbating constantly and getting no work done. Well, he could, but that wasn’t the productive attitude of a top student. He definitely needed to do laundry now, but after that he would start operation ‘get laid.’ Then after that he would start operation ‘find and subsequently marry Akechi.’

After his clothes were cleaned, Akira went back to his computer. He briefly considered finishing his chapter but that would mean writing more porn and then he’d have to masturbate and/or fuck imaginary Akechi again. As tempting as that sounded, he decided to focus on the task at hand instead. He closed his word processor and opened his chat client, messaging his good buddy Haru for a booty call.

As it turned out, getting laid was going to prove to be harder than Akira had anticipated. Haru was in France for a study abroad program. Ann was also out of the country for a fashion shoot. Ryuji had a crazy work schedule that he immediately tried to blow off for sex with his bro, but Akira told him not to get fired over a quickie. Yusuke was out of town for a gallery opening. Finally, Makoto apologized for being too busy as well. She had gone camping in the mountains with her sister and somehow convinced Futaba to go with them for a girl’s retreat. She probably wouldn’t have agreed without the promise of wifi since when did Futaba even like camping to begin with? She didn’t, that’s when. But without the internet he wouldn’t have even known where they were, so there was that, at the very least.

Unfortunately, Akira’s friends all had lives and he had more or less missed his chance to keep the group glued together by deciding to move away. They all still adored him, but life was in the way now. Akira understood, but was bummed out. He ended up taking the train to Yongen-Jaya to visit Sojiro at Leblanc. His once-guardian was no doubt remiss for what to do without Futaba around, so maybe he would let Akira suck his dick after a cup of his famous coffee.

At the café, Akira waited, sulking at the bar with his coffee, until there were no more customers. He opened his mouth to suggest his dirty idea, when luck would have it the door chimed to signify a patron had arrived.

“Sorry, Sir. We’re closed for the night,” Sojiro mumbled.

“Oh that’s a real pity,” a soft voice answered. “I’ve heard this is the best coffee in Tokyo and traveled all the way here, but there was a delay on the train. I should have biked I suppose. Say! Maybe you could make one exception for an unlucky guy like me?”

Akira’s ears lit up at the familiar voice that he would recognize in the vacuum of outer space. Was he hallucinating still? If this was another trap his mind had set up to get him to jerk off, he was going to be so mad. He turned his head to look at the person in the door, half-expecting no one to be there at all. But no. There he stood, Goro Akechi in the flesh, tall and clean, moonlight dusting his luscious hair. Akira was now face to face with his idol slash soul mate and he was looking like a shabby hobo in his hoodie and jeans. He felt himself flush red and quickly turned back to take a big gulp of his coffee, hiding his dumb founded expression with the cup. He was going to die. He was dying right now. Good thing he could count on Sojiro to sweep out unwanted guests like a cranky bastard. While Akira didn’t condone being rude to Akechi, he wasn’t prepared for an interaction with god himself right now and would forgive Sojiro just this once for his insurrection, as long as it saved him from his awful embarrassment.

“Oh what the hell. I can make one more pot. Come on in,” Sojiro announced, setting his cleaning rag down and heading over to the French press. Akira wondered vaguely if there was still time to kill himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 done! I might post a second chapter tonight so that I can catch up so stay tuned!
> 
> I hope everyone is enjoying Akira's inner disturbances.
> 
> I have like....5 more chapters worth of ideas so hopefully I can keep this thing going after that.


	3. Chapter 3

Akira was at a major loss for words. Goro Akechi was sitting next to him at that very moment, breathing the same air as him, drinking the same type of coffee. The sweet angel, who had never committed a single sin, sipped his drink when he received it. He hummed warmly to himself at the pleasant flavor and that noise was everything to Akira. He was so much better close up and in person. This moment beat the shit out of every interview he’d ever seen. 

Akira could make coffee just as good as Sojiro’s and he vowed he would make it for Akechi every day if he’d have him; too bad he too awestruck to say anything. He believed his poker face shielded him from seeming too creepy at least.

Maybe he didn’t have to die. He decided to just enjoy the proximity between them. He’d had wanted to find Akechi and here he was, sent to him from heaven. So things weren’t going how he’d thought they would YET, but he still had a chance. As long as Akechi was next to him, he had a chance.

He sat silently, trying to come up with a plan and also taking in Akechi’s aura. He could see him out of the corner of his glasses, so he didn’t need to stare directly. He could smell his cologne. It was Akechi’s known favorite, Black Opium by Yves Saint Laurent. When Akira found out that was Akechi’s favorite scent, which made sense since the top note was coffee, he immediately got some for himself. He didn’t wear it but he’d spray it on his pillowcase so that he could smell Akechi all night. It smelled nothing like actual opium, but Akira was addicted to Akechi nonetheless. Also the prince favoring a women’s cologne was further proof that he was super gay and Akira had gotten into a couple of internet fights about that. The real point was that he drank up Akechi’s aroma like water in a desert oasis and wanted nothing more than to bury his face into his neck right then and there.

“So what do you think?” Sojiro asked casually with his filthy mouth that wasn’t fit to lick Akechi’s shoe let alone address him.

Akechi took his time to decide on his response, choosing his words carefully and thoughtfully. “This is indeed the best coffee I have ever had. The atmosphere in here is very calming as well. This might just be my new favorite café.” Holy shit. That would be great for Akira and his plans.

“Why thank you, young man,” Sojiro said with a grin, sated from the ego boost. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “To tell you the truth, this guy right here makes it even better than I do now. He surpassed his master, the little brat.”

Akira bristled at the tremendous complimen.t Even if Sojiro had to toss in an insult, he still not only admitted defeat, but said it to Akechi of all people. He furrowed his brow and smiled softly, finally finding the courage to speak in front of his idol. “You don’t really mean that. I still have a lot to learn.”

“Oh! Why don’t I judge your talent for myself,” Akechi chimed in. “The real test is with the customer, is it not?” No. Absolutely not. This was not happening. He wasn’t ready. It was going too fast. What if he made him coffee and he hated it? Akira was going to have a panic attack. He took a deep breath and tried to keep from screaming. He couldn’t stand, let alone make any drinks right now. But he couldn’t refuse Akechi’s demands either right?

“He’s rather quiet, isn’t he?” Akechi remarked to Sojiro with a chuckle.

“Akira here is a family friend. Don’t let him bug you. He can be a real pain, but once you get to know him, he’s got a good heart.” Akira looked down. Why was Sojiro saying all this stuff now? Here? To Akechi?

“Akira,” Akechi repeated. He smiled to himself. His name on Akechi’s lips was a heavenly chorus. He wanted to hear him say it again. “Akira.” He said it again! This time it was to get his attention. “You wouldn’t mind making me a cup of your coffee, right?”

Akira finally looked at him. God, his eyes were beautiful. He nodded weakly and managed to get up and walk behind the counter without stumbling, a big win. Sojiro came up behind him to whisper in his ear.

“This is that guy you like, right?” How did he know?! Akira nodded, dying more and more each second. “Well calm down, you look like a dumbass. I set you up here so just play it cool and you’ll be fine.” Akira nodded again, letting out the breath he was holding in and tried to relax a little. “We can still fool around later if you strike out.”

Akira turned to look at Sojiro and finally was able to crack a smile. He could only imagine what embarrassing thing the old man knew about his crush on Akechi, but he was in his court on this and that made him feel so much better. He nodded and moved on to make Akechi his best cup of coffee, exactly the way he knew he liked it. At least if he struck out, he would still get pity sex and could live to stalk Akechi another day. No pressure.

“What are you two whispering about?” Akechi teased, leaning his cheek on his hand.

“Oh I was just telling Akira here to get your number. He could use a polite friend like you,” Sojiro announced. Akira almost spit. He was taking back all the nice things he had thought about this devil man. He was just a cruel psycho.

“Haha!” Akechi laughed politely. “Well if his coffee is truly better, then I will reward him with my personal number. I’d need him on call to ‘get my fix’ anyway. How does that sound, Akira?” It sounded like ten orgasms.

“I think that’s fair,” Akira said, somehow joining the banter as he slowly remembered he was a functioning member of society usually.

“It’s a deal then,” Akechi decided. Akira needed to turn on his A game and win that number. A romp with Sojiro did not seem like a good consolation prize anymore. He needed that phone number.

The three of them existed in a silence thicker than pea soup for the few minutes it took Akira to pour the perfect cup of coffee. Coffee was serious business and they all agreed on it. He set the mug down in front of Akechi and held his breath. Today was either the best or worst day of his life. Akechi brought the cup to his lips and paused to take in the aroma and make Akira feel like he was going to piss himself in anxiety. Finally, he took a sip and his expression immediately lit up.

“Wow,” was all he said.

“Is it good?” Akira asked in anticipation. Akechi made eye contact with him and he had to struggle to maintain composed. He hid his shaking hands behind his back.

“Akira.” Akechi said his name with his buttery voice again. “This is the single greatest thing I’ve ever tasted.” Akira wondered if this was all just a dream again. Akechi laughed. “I don’t mean to sound strange but I think I’m in love with you.” Oh god was this really happening?! “As promised, I’ll give you my personal number. Just don’t give it to anyone else. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I’m a little bit of a celebrity, so I have a certain need for privacy. I hope you understand.”

All Akira could do was nod like a dumb sack of bricks. He winced as he felt Sojiro kick the back of his ankle. “I’ve seen you around, yeah. You’re Akechi right?” Smooth. 

“Bingo. You got it!” He praised, clapping his hands together. He was so cute.

“I’ll make sure to keep it a secret.” Akira now had two secrets.

“Perfect.” Akechi pulled out a fancy pen from the inner pocket of his coat and wrote his digits down on a napkin, sliding them over to Akira. When he finished his drink, he added, “Would it trouble you if I came here again tomorrow during your actual business hours? One cup of this will not be enough for me.”

Akira shook his head. He didn’t have class, THANK GOD, and Sojiro never minded him helping out. He had planned to sleep over anyway. “See you tomorrow then.”

“Yes. I look forward to it,” Akechi replied with a smile that rivaled the sun. He got up and left money on the counter; enough for his drinks and a generous tip, and he left to presumably go home. The door chimed as he made his exit.

Sokiro didn’t miss a beat and when back to cleaning up. “Help out if you want something out of me, brat.”

Akira saved Akechi’s number in his phone quickly before anything bad could happen and shoved the napkin in his pocket to be added to his disgusting closet shrine later. He was going to feel bad washing Akechi’s lips off the cup he drank from but it had to be done. He then obeyed Sojiro and began to help clean.

“How did you know about Akechi?” Akira just had to know.

“You talk in your sleep, moron. That was the first and last time I ever went upstairs to check up you,” Sojiro said, shaking his head in disgust. Akira decided he didn’t actually need to know more than that. Hopefully no one else knew anything. He was luckily too happy at the moment to be shook by this revelation.

The two of them left the shop together to head to Sojiro’s house. Akira was on cloud nine and felt like he would throw up at the thought of seeing Akechi again tomorrow as friends. That being said, he wasn’t a tease. He had gone to Sojiro for something and he wasn’t going to cancel their appointment. He’d suck his dick like a good boy and then rest up for the exciting day to come. He had a date with destiny.

Akechi had said he loved Akira. Even if it was hyperbolic, he had said it with his sweet face hole. Akira would treasure that moment and use it as momentum to make it a reality. He’d make Akechi love him for real and die happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep writing the chapter and not typing it so I'm going to have to double post one of these days, you'll all see!
> 
> Thank you all for the comments and kudos! They are my lifeblood. I'm definitely going to have some more of Akira's writing eventually. I wasn't necessarily going to before, but people showing interest in it made me realize that maybe I shouldn't say he does a thing and then never write about him doing the thing.
> 
> Next chapter is an Akechi chapter and we can all see what his deal is.
> 
> See you tomorrow!


	4. Chapter 4

Goro Akechi had just drunk the best coffee of his entire life and now, energized by Satan’s brew, he was going to engage in his favorite activity ever: stalking people. Being that he was a detective, he had certain privileges where no one ever batted an eyelash if he did a little bit of extensive investigations. If he happened to know every single detail about someone, it wasn’t creepy; it was just proof of why he deserved his fame. He had to admit, his target didn’t give him much to go on, but he had worked miracles with less. He had a name at least. “Akira.” Now that was incredible common and he hadn’t noticed any mention of a surname, but he had some clues.

First, he knew the owner of Leblanc was named Sojiro Sakura from looking up his business license. He had an adoptive daughter, Futaba, who took his last name after the untimely death of Sojio’s close friend, her mother. Akechi was actually very familiar with that specific suicide, but he’d never met Sojiro in person.

Second, Sojiro had said Akira was a family friend. Even if he was a friend of Futaba’s, she was in high school and Akira had been wearing a university hoodie. He might have just had the hoodie randomly, but he looked college age. The point was that he wouldn’t be on Futaba’s class list probably. The university Akira seemingly went to listed many people with his name, with multiple different spellings, and even some Akiras that all had the same last name. He’d get back to that.

Third, Akira spoke with a Kansai dialect. He hadn’t said much and had seemingly tried to suppress it, but he definitely caught him slipping up. With that information Akechi just had to narrow all the Akiras down to people from the countryside, look up all their social media profiles once his list was shorter until he found his Akira’s page, and then find out all the other information that there was to know about him.

After Akechi sat down with his planned activity for the night, he quickly burned through the college’s attendee list until he found his target fluffy boy. His name was Akira Kurusu and boy was the internet full of interesting things about him. Akira moved to Tokyo from Inaba two years prior due to an incident that marked him a criminal. He had apparently assaulted someone and a reliable witness testified against him, leaving him expelled from his high school and in danger of jail time. So his coffee shop crush was actually a nasty crime boy. Akechi loved it. He seemed so precious, but was rotten inside, just like Akechi. They matched.

Akechi also thought he recognized the name of the witness but wasn’t sure from where. The victim’s identity was sealed for some reason, which definitely seemed a bit fishy. Moreover, it was a strange coincidence that Akira had lived under the Sakuras’ care, so maybe he was also tangled up in Akechi’s affairs in other ways as well. He planned on finding all that out after their next encounter. Akira, for some reason, had wanted to be his friend, but it was hard to assume it was just innocence, considering their small degree of separation. If he was just trying to be friends, then he was very unlucky to have chosen Akechi, and if he was the McNasty boy his record indicated that he was, then he deserved what he had coming to him. Akechi was going to use him and then do what he did with all his ‘friends’ when there was nothing left that he wanted. He didn’t actually need anyone but he loved his fun game. He’d never played it with a boy before, so this would be interesting.

The next day he took a break from the actual detective work he had to do to head over to Leblanc in the early afternoon. He wanted to give Akira time to have other activities that day so that he could follow him and see his behavior when he thought that no one was looking. When he walked in, the cute, quiet boy was standing behind the counter with an apron on, looking a little more professional and less like a hobo today. He was cleaning mugs and looked up when Akechi walked in. His face was incredibly hard to read. Akechi would have assumed there was nothing on his mind at all and that he was a simpleton, but he had seen his grades. You don’t become top of the class and receive so many scholarship opportunities with an empty head. He was unreadable on purpose. Akechi would just have to unravel him.

Sitting down at the bar, right in front of his new favorite barista, Akechi put on his award-winning smile and loaded his most charming greeting.

“Good afternoon, Akira.” Akira nodded to him in response. “Did you miss me?” He nodded to Akechi again and smiled. Akechi grinned back. Okay, he’d just have to talk for the both of them it seemed. “I can’t stay long today since I’m only here on break, so we’ll have to make the most of our short time together.” He glanced around quickly. “It’s not too busy. Perhaps you’d like to sit on this side with me?”

Akechi watched Akira’s cogs turn. He definitely caught him off guard with his offer. Akira didn’t immediately respond and it was subtle, but his breath hitched and his shifted uncomfortably. He quickly turned away to start making their coffee and to avoid eye contact it seemed. He mumbled a soft, “That sounds nice.” The poor sap must not have been used to talking to people. No wonder Sojiro was trying to push him to make friends; he must not have had many. Good, he wouldn’t be missed. He was in fact adorable though. Akechi wanted him all to himself.

Akira made two cups of his satanically good coffee and walked around the counter to serve Akechi and sit awkwardly next to him. He was slightly curled in on himself like a trapped animal but still angled more towards Akechi than not. His trepidation yet over-eagerness was delightful. Maybe his brains didn’t translate to tactics or confidence and this wasn’t an act. Akechi liked shy people actually. That was, he wouldn’t have to compete with someone aggressive or fight for dominance. If this was real, Akira was perfect.

“So what do you do when you’re not making coffee, Akira?” Akechi made sure to say his name often. People loved hearing their own name and repeating it made them more warm and receptive.

“I go to university,” Akira said, seeming to find his footing enough in the conversation to speak clearly now.

“What’s your major?” Akechi looked directly at him.

“Criminology,” Akira replied, daring to look up. He made eye contact with Akechi by accident and his face tinted red; how adorable. He was so afraid. Akechi wanted to just hold him and kiss the top of his head until he stopped shivering like a sad dog. He wanted him to get comfortable.

“It’s funny you should say that! I’m actually a privately contracted detective for the police. What a coincidence. Maybe we’ll work together some day.” Fat chance. Akechi smiled warmly and watched Akira nod, his eyebrows rising slightly. He was looking for some sort of sign to see if Akira already knew that information or not. He had claimed earlier that he was famous, so he wanted to know if Akira had been smart enough to look him up. He couldn’t tell. This boy was frustratingly thick which fascinated Akechi. He liked this challenge that someone had floated into his lap.

Akechi sipped his drink pointedly and saw Akira parrot his movement out of the corner of his eyes as he drank too. People copying body language, speech patterns, and mannerisms all were signs of submission. The most powerful person in the room would set the standard for behavior. Akira was weak willed and clearly respected Akechi.

They spoke a little longer but Akechi mostly talked talked about himself. Akira seemed content to listen. It was a perfect arrangement. Akechi talked about his public appearances and internet following. He mentioned he kept a food blog but said he selfishly wanted to keep Leblanc a secret. If he brought attention to the hole-in-the-wall shop, then it would lose its quaint atmosphere if too many people showed up on his recommendation. Akira managed to tell him it was fine on account of Sojiro liking peace and quiet anyway. Perfect.

“Oh I didn’t get your number last night. May I have it?” Akechi asked as he finished his coffee. Akira hesitated but ultimately recorded it into Akechi’s phone for him with those shaking hands of his. He had wanted a handwriting sample so it was a bummer he didn’t write it down, but at least he organically knew his last name now, so he would have less stalking to cover up.

Akechi carefully took Akira’s hand, feeling his warm, soft skin. He placed his payment directly onto his palm, curling his fingers around the bills for him and lingered there to draw out the contact between them and form a more meaningful connection. “I shall text you later. It was nice to see you.” Akira nodded again, his go-to response it seemed. What could he be thinking about? He clearly liked Akechi by his demeanor, so maybe he was actually just ogling him silently. That would have been funny. He got up and left with another goodbye and a wave, but he wouldn’t be going too far. He was going to wait for Akira to get off work after all, not that Akira would see him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright I finished this fast enough I think I can post my other chapter today and be caught up. Your comments have been fueling my fire and serious motivation so I think I can get it done.
> 
> Akechi likes to over analyze small details it seems. My favorite part is that he simultaneously scrutinizes other people while only actually caring about himself. It's gonna be a couple more chapters before everyone's favorite good boy, imaginary!Akechi reappears but I miss him already now that a nasty challenger appears.
> 
> Stay tuned! Hopefully see you all later today


	5. Chapter 5

The real adventure began when Akira got off work. Akchi had waited for him to leave and was not disappointed. He had changed his clothes to something more casual, still better than that baggy college sweatshirt. So at least it seemed he was usually less slovenly, which was good for Akechi’s vanity. He didn’t want to associate with a slob. When he left, he was texting someone on his phone and he headed off in the opposite direction from the train station. He lived at school, so he wasn’t going home, and he seemingly was headed for somewhere still in Yongen-Jaya. Akechi was tempted to look at his phone records but decided that would be too easy and refrained.

The off-duty detective followed Akira to a health clinic down the street and he waited outside when he went in. There were cameras at the door, so he couldn’t get too close without leaving evidence. Was Akira sick? While he waited for him to come out, he looked up the clinic on his phone. 

Tae Takemi owned the practice and had some interesting history. It seemed she had been blamed for killing a child based on experimental medicine that she had developed. She had been exiled from her rising career in disgrace. Recently, she had been cleared of all wrong doing, as she had been framed by her superior at the time, but had decided to remain in her clinic rather than return to her old life. What Akechi found interesting was that the culprit had confessed his crimes without ever being a suspect. Maybe the guilt had got to him. 

What’s more was Akechi recognized the premise of the exact situation he was seeing from a certain online story that he liked to read. How odd. Was it a coincidence, or maybe he was just projecting his desires onto the situation. Akira was actually insanely attractive. He was soft and demure but had some sort of fire in his eyes that struck Akechi in a way he couldn’t explain. He visually complimented Akechi’s own style nicely. So maybe Akechi was just combining his attraction to his target with the lust he felt for the antagonist of his favorite story. Maybe he was just seeing connections that weren’t actually there.

That thought would have to wait as Akira finally exited the clinic. Something seemed wrong with him. He stumbled a little and shakily pushed his hair back out of his face, running his fingers through his feathery tresses. This allowed Akechi a good, clear look at Akira’s expression. His eyes were wide and red. Holy shit, was he high? Wow. Did Akira actually go to the clinic to do drugs with the plague doctor? He really was darker than he let on if that was actually the case. Along with the stupor Akira was gliding down the street in, his clothes were now wrinkled and one sock was bunched down around his ankle. There were distinctive makeup stains around the collar of his white shirt. Had Akira also had sex with Tae? So he loved drugs and sex. Okay. Maybe playing with him would be even more fun than he initially thought. Maybe the connections between him and Joker were just coincidences, but Akechi couldn’t un-see it now that he knew Akira was a garbage boy. 

Akechi put his binoculars back in his briefcase and left his hiding spot to trail Akira to the train station. He didn’t head home just yet. He took the train to Shibuya, somehow keeping a low profile despite his inebriation. Akira must have done this often if he was so used to covering it up. How did he maintain his grades if this was a typical afternoon? When they arrived, Akira wandered to a shop called ‘Untouchable,’ that was hidden down a dark, graffiti stained alley. It was a model gun shop owned by one Munehisa Iwai, an ex-yakuza thug. This was so intriguing. What could he possibly want there? A moment later, Iwai himself peeked out the door, lollipop in his mouth. He glanced around suspiciously and slid back inside, turning his sign over to ‘closed,’ and locked the shop up with multiple clicks. 

Akechi waited around to learn what Akira’s business was and eventually learned the answer when the now-disheveled boy limped out of the shop. He waved back to Iwai and seemed rather satisfied with himself. That slut. Was the shy boy thing really all one big act? He did have friends, even if they were much older, so what was his goal with Akechi? Whatever it was, Akechi would get his goat first. The fluffy boy would be his, not the other way around. The slut thing would have to stop though.

Giving up for the day, Akechi retired back to his lavish apartment. He lived in a fancy high rise. He employed minimalistic, tasteful décor; it was easier to keep clean that way. Akechi would entertain guests occasionally, but he much preferred an elegant appearance to the cozy, living in feeling. Leblanc was a real warm comfort, but his cold, white and beige apartment was familiar and quiet. His didn’t need much out of his sterile living space anyway. It was bound to change eventually anyway, as everything always did, so why settle in too much? 

After a quick dinner and a shower, Akechi slid into his bed. He wanted to read the newest chapter of his favorite story. Now one might consider it conceited that Akechi would read fanfiction about himself, but the thing about it was, other people would write self-insert fics or x-reader to fulfill a certain fantasy. Akechi was just fulfilling that same fantasy, but he had to do less imagining since it was all catered directly to him. Being famous had its perks.

Luckily, the internet eventually started to figure out Akechi might have a thing for men, so the stories were now more up his alley too. All his flirting towards girls was for publicity. He wasn’t actually interested in any of them. Joker, the writer of his favorite fanfic, and his subsequent forum fights, at least got some people onto the correct side. Akechi would never admit they were right, but he could enjoy it in private.

As for Joker’s story, it was written well, had a compelling plot about a criminal by the same name, and the porn of them wasn’t bad either. Joker had updated the story while Akechi was showering, so he decided he would read that instead of doing paperwork. He needed to unwind from all the detective work on Akira he had done that day anyway. 

Halfway in to the chapter came the good part. It read: 

 

_Joker ran his fingers gently through Akechi’s soft brown hair, suddenly gripping a handful tightly and yanked his head back. He pressed his long knife to his rival’s throat, threatening to cut if he struggled. He had Akechi on his knees, hands bound in duct tape behind his back. Akechi had lost and had been staring at the ground in defeat until Joker grabbed his attention. He winced at his hair being tugged and stiffened at the knife. He sneered up at Joker defiantly, daring him to actually commit a murder. He knew deep down that Joker would never kill an innocent. He had morals, a thief’s code of ethics. Things had just gone sideways and the trickster was in over his head. If Akechi could diffuse the situation, they could both make it out of there. His expression melted into one of pity._

_“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Akechi reasoned softly._

_Joker tilted his head and smiled coldly, clearly devoid of empathy. “I’m going to take my time with you. Let’s see how you like it.” He let Akechi’s hair go roughly and unzipped his tight leather pants. He freed his cock from its confines, smirking darkly as he stroked himself lazily. “If you do a good job, I’ll let you go.”  
_

_Akechi stared at the dick in his face. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before, embarrassed as he was to admit his previous encounters with Joker’s naked body. At least the other times were a bit more…consensual. Honestly, being forced into this position was making Akechi’s head swim and his body was reacting positively against his better judgment. He was definitely getting off on this.  
_

_He shuddered and licked his lips, parting them to lean forward and take the head of Joker’s dick into his mouth. He was rewarded by a pleased hum and the hand returned to his hair to pet him gently. Akechi glanced up at Joker, rubbing his tongue slowly over his slit and sucked on him deliberately. He leaned in to take more of him into his mouth and then scraped his teeth back up the shaft, earning a hiss from his captor. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. Joker was getting his rocks off, so why couldn’t he enjoy it too if had had no other choice.  
_

_The detective set a pace and started bobbing his head, running his tongue over every vein, mixing his saliva with pre-cum. Once Joker was worked up enough, he pulled out his finishing move, taking him fully into his mouth, all the way to the base. He felt Joker hit the back of his throat and in that moment, the thief lost it and shot his hot seed into Akechi’s mouth. He swallowed expertly and let Joker shudder and ride it out before pulling away. A little bit of jizz had dibbled down Akechi’s chin and he looked like a winded saint._

_Joker returned his dick to his pants and cut Akechi loose from his bindings. He leaned down and licked the trail of cum off his face and kissed him passionately, shoving his tongue in his mouth to taste himself. When he pulled away, he smirked suavely. “Now it’s your turn.”  
_

_Akechi smirked back as he rubbed his wrists. “I can’t wait.” Their roleplay had him hot and bothered and he was ready for more.  
_

 

The real Akechi shut his laptop once he’d finished reading and also finding his own orgasm. He was slightly disappointed, as he believed he should have been the one in control of Joker. He’d never be in such a compromising position. But he couldn’t exactly message Joker and tell him that he, Akechi, thought he had it wrong. He would just seem crazy and if he proved it, he’d probably scare Joker off. It would also ruin his nice boy façade to admit his sexual preferences and he had an image to uphold.

What he could do though, was rewrite his own version, live with the person he’d imagined to be Joker through the whole chapter, Akira. He smiled to himself as he thought about clamping a hand over Akira’s mouth and making him do anything he wanted. He grabbed his phone and sent a text message to his new friend, figuring he’d be up anyway, even though it was late. 

 

**Akechi:** _Would you like to go on a date tomorrow?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with updated tags!
> 
> Tragedy struck earlier and I spilled glaze on my notebook, so I never accomplished double posting to catch up. It's all good now for the most part.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed the mini-porn. It's the first one I've actually posted, since all my other fics are in editing limbo and stalled right at the explicit parts ironically. I'm still deciding on Akira's writing style so it might change later. Who knows!


	6. Chapter 6

Akira stared at his phone. It was pretty late and he had done a lot that day. He had coffee with the love of his life; he assisted Tae and Iwai with their businesses and also got nailed, which was nice. He did his homework, updated his fanfic, and then rolled around talking to imaginary Akechi about his day for the last couple of hours. Now he was lying in his muse’s arms and staring at his phone. The real-life Akechi had just asked him out on a day. Already! Things were moving so fast. 

“Tell me you’d love to,” Fake!Akechi cooed to him. He buried his face in his neck and hugged him closer.

“You won’t be jealous?”

Fake!Akechi was quiet for a long time. He seemed to struggling with the reality that if Akira got where he ultimately wanted, he wouldn’t be needed anymore. This was also Akira’s struggle. He loved his ghost pal. “…I will always be here if you need me, Akira. Don’t miss you chance because of me. You’ve been longing for this.” 

Akira furrowed his brows and nodded. If he had the go-ahead then he would, in fact, go ahead. He responded to the text finally, choosing his response carefully.

 

**Akira:** I’m free after class. Where would you like to go?

**Akechi:** I would like to treat you to dinner.

**Akira:** Sounds good.

**Akechi:** I’ll send you the directions. Dress nicely. Is 7pm good for you?

**Akira:** Yes. I’ll see you then.

**Akechi:** I look forward to it.

 

Akira hugged his phone to his chest and let out a tortured sob. His heart was on fire. Everything was coming together. Akechi wanted to date him for whatever reason. That meant that he was right about Akechi being gay! He would do anything for Akechi. If he continued to want him, he’d do anything. He leaned back against his fake boyfriend and whined loudly.

“What if you don’t like me?”

“I love you.”

“But what if he doesn’t?”

“He will,” Fake!Akechi reassured with a sigh.

When it came time to meet Akechi, Akira felt like he was going to have a heart attack, throw up his kidneys, and die. He had barely been able to sleep, he had bounced his legs in class the same amount it would take to run five miles, and had drank about twenty cups of coffee. He needed to calm down. Was Tae available? Wait, no, showing up to a date high was bad. He pulled out his phone to see if Ryuji could give him a pre-game pep-talk slash blowjob, but quickly ruled out asking for that and shoved it back into his pocket. He took a deep breath and decided to stop looking for an escape and just go be his normal self. People liked him; they felt comfortable around him. Akechi had asked him out for that very reason probably, so he had nothing to worry about. Right? He let out his deep breath and approached the restaurant to meet his detective date, ready or not.

Akira had been told to dress nice, so he wore a blazer and slacks but Akechi was in a suit. He felt like maybe he hadn’t dressed up enough, but the prince always did go one more formality level than required, so maybe it was fine.

“You look nice,” Akechi commented with a smile as Akira came over. With each one of Akechi’s smiles, Akira’s blood pressure went up another point. His presence gave Akira life. He was an actual god on this earth and Akira needed to legitimately get his head out of the cloud and remember how to act like a person right now instead of swooning like an idiot. He finally responded, “You do too.”

When they headed inside, it became immediately obvious why Akechi had dressed so nicely. This place was not for poor people. Akira stared at the menu, unsure what to do. There were no written prices so that meant that it was going to be astronomically expensive. Akira had about a million side hustles and his scholarship, so he wasn’t in debt or even close, but he couldn’t afford anything like this. 

“I’m going to treat you to something special, don’t worry about the menu,” Akechi said, hands folded neatly in his lap. He exuded confidence and sophistication. It was actually a little intimidating. All Akira could do was nod and set his menu down. 

Akira almost spit when Akechi ended up ordering the both of them Wagyu beef. Did he always take his dates out on such lavish experiences? Well, he was a paragon of goodness. Maybe it was obvious that he would shower people of interests in luxuries at any given chance if he could. Akira loved it, and he had loved it when it was just pretend, but this actually made him feel uncomfortable. 

“This is my thank you for your delicious coffee, Akira. I figured as a college student, you probably don’t get many opportunities to enjoy things like this. So consider this my gift to you and enjoy it to it’s fullest,” Akechi explained with his dentle gaze and serene smile. It put Akira at ease. “Talented people like us deserve to share in other’s talents and experience the finer things in life, don’t you think?” 

“This is definitely a great opportunity…” Akira answered vaguely, not feeling that his coffee should be grouped in with Akechi’s amazing intellect or the best cuts of beef in the whole world. “Thank you for this.”

“It’s no problem. Actually, it’s my pleasure. You see, Akira, due to my status, it’s hard for me to make genuine friends, let alone date. But you’re special. Just from talking to you a little, I can tell that you’re the type of person I could form a life long bond with. Maybe it’s just my keen detective senses at play, but I always trust my gut on these things. I hope that maybe you feel the same.” Akechi’s speech made Akira lightheaded. Did he really just say all of that? Maybe this was actually destiny.

Akira nodded. “I really like spending time with you.” He averted his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“Oh, I as well,” Akechi replied. “I could barely sleep waiting for our date last night.” So they were the same. “There is just something about you, Akira. You are magnetic.” 

“Thank you,” Akira said, sipping his water. He felt hot and dizzy. He should have gone to Tae’s so at least he wouldn’t be so embarrassingly quiet. But Akechi said he liked him! So he must have been doing something correctly. This was a dream come true. He needed to stop feeling so sick and enjoy it god dammit.

The beef was everything he’d ever heard about and more. It was buttery and soft and melted right in his mouth. Nothing in the whole world compared to the flavor. It was cooked to perfection. Akira had a wandering intrusive thought that if someone were to cook and eat Akechi, would this have been what he tasted like; like heaven? 

“What do you think?” Akechi asked, looking at him expectantly. 

“I love it,” Akira answered. He wanted to add, ‘I love you,’ but didn’t. 

When their date ended, Akechi stopped him outside the restaurant to take his hand. His skin was as soft as it looked. He was warm. His date leaned in, no fear of hesitation to speak of, and kissed Akira square on the lips. The connection felt electric. He never wanted it to end. He was afraid to kiss back but he did it anyway. He leaned in and deepened their exchange. After what seemed like the span of the history of the whole universe, but was actually just a couple of seconds, Akechi pulled away. He squeezed Akira’s hand reassuringly and smiled before sliding back a step. Akira could still feel his warmth and his coffee scented cologne lingered in his nostrils. 

“I’ll text you,” Akechi promised. Akira nodded to agree to that deal and they parted ways, leaving Akira alone with a tremendous ache in his heart. He never wanted to leave Akechi’s side again. Every second apart from him was like being trapped under a thick layer of ice in a frozen lake. His veins froze and every breath was agonizing. He had tasted something addictive, something he thought he’d never have, not the beef but Akechi himself. Giving him up would be absolutely impossible now. 

Akira eventually got home and washed up for bed, going through the motions while utterly euphoric. No drug had ever compared to the high he got off that kiss. His wave unfortunately came crashing down real fast when he discovered the shit storm that had brewed online while he was gone. It seemed someone had taken a picture of that kiss and posted it online. The Akechi fandom had exploded and Akira was right in the center of a giant war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for all the support. I'm glad people actually like this!
> 
> I have the other chapter from today fully written but didn't type it yet. Expect another update in the morning.
> 
> See you soon!


	7. Chapter 7

“This is bad.” Fake!Akechi was leaning over Akira’s shoulder, looking at the computer screen with him.

The picture that was circulating online of Akechi and Akira kissing had received quite a bit of negative attention in a pretty short amount of time. Fans were man about a multitude of things. Akechi being gay just couldn’t be true. He’d always flirted with women. He had never reportedly been public about a girlfriend, but gay? No way. So some people were homophobic about the news obviously; others were upset that their chance with Akechi was shattered if he didn’t like women. Some were upset that their chance was taken just on the basis of Akechi being taken, whatever his preference was. A celebrity like him dating a virtually unknown commoner was hard to fathom.

Then there were the comments about Akira himself. He was too tall, too short, fat, skinny, hideous, his glasses sucked, his clothes didn’t fit well or weren’t stylish enough; the list went on. Honestly, Akira couldn’t blame the trolls. He would have spited anyone Akechi actually kissed too.

Everyone in the fandom could more or less get along as long as it was all just about fiction; sans the crazy people who believed they were actually dating Akechi in real life through their fanfic…well okay, Akira knew his imaginary friend was fake obviously. He would never use his super popular and accurate fanfic and see-through boyfriend to bull anyone. Also he would never admit anything about his see-through boyfriend to anyone anyway. Those people who said it out loud were nuts and also ruining it for the rest of them. That being said, it was a whole different story when things were actually real. People who he could get along with before were suddenly all against him once it wasn’t pretend anymore. 

There were also the antis who needed to weigh in as well. They were all posting their opinions about respecting Akechi’s privacy, along with the unknown boy’s; the boy Akira knew was just himself. Their sincerity about the disgusting behavior of the fandom and honoring Akechi’s wishes being the most important thing was refreshing and made Akira feel a little better and more supported. 

The only thing was that, given the option, with the situation flipped, he probably wouldn’t have ever sided with these people. They were totally wrong since anyone that would steal Akechi from his fans was an enemy. He felt guilty about that mindset and at the very least developed some empathy from the horrible situation he was in. He felt his kindness go up a couple points. He’d be more compassionate in the future to say the least.

Joker also was receiving tons of messages himself. People were either congratulating him on being right or flaming him and blaming him for everything. A lot of people wanted to know his opinions as well. It had only been a short while ago, but him not immediately responding, do to Akira being on a train hom, had put people on edge. This whole thing was a total disaster.

First thing was first, Akira found the highest resolution of that picture available, printed it out onto glossy photo paper, and stepped over to his closet to add it to a special frame at the front of his Akechi shrine. Along with the picture was the napkin Akechi wrong on, collages and mood boards he’d put together of his darling, souvenirs from restaurants he’d gone to since Akechi had eaten there too, signed copies of Akechi’s books, and various other items of significance to his obsession with his now-boyfriend. They were boyfriends now, right? Well maybe not. Maybe he’d be scared away by all this drama. Dammit. He’d need to do major damage control. 

“This is why I was saying it’s bad,” Fakechi explained from back over by the computer.

Akira sat back down at his desk and sighed. “We’ll just have to respond to some of these messages. If you ask, I went to bed and missed all the commotion.”

“Are you sure? If you text me at least you get to have an opinion be I come to my own conclusions alone,” Fakechi reasoned, crossing his arms and popping his hip. “What if I think it’s easier to just cut you off?” 

“No!” Akira cried in horror. “No. That can’t happen. I need you.”

“I know, so you need to convince me of that,” he said.

“What if I seem desperate and make things work?” Akira started to panic from the thought of losing everything right after he’d got it. 

“You’re smarter than that. I believe in you.” Fakechi wrapped his arms around Akira’s shoulders from behind and kissed the top of his head. “Fix it.”

“Ok…” Akira was shaking but let out a deep breath and relaxed back again his chest. He was Morgana staring up at him. “You gonna help?”

“Nope,” said the cat’s fake voice and he started licking his toes and biting on his claws, having lost interest in Akira. 

“Thanks,” Akira muttered and returned to the internet. 

Joker’s official stance on the matter was to side with the antis, a bold move. He said he wouldn’t stop writing his story, but his story was fiction. The real Akechi was a person and deserved his supporters to respect him and his choices. He was brave for kissing a boy in public, whatever orientation he went with, and there was no reason to hate him. If anything, if they got more info on the mystery boy, Joker would have a rival to write about, (even if that rival were just himself,) so it made his own story more interesting. He told the fandom their duty was to wish Akechi good luck and to pray for his happiness no matter what, instead of fighting with each other. It was controversial, especially considering most people in the fandom had expected him to take their sides and probably felt more than a little bit like ridiculous babies for spreading around all that hatred. Some people were even more outraged than before, but ultimately he did change a few people’s minds at the very least. 

Once he finished online, he did have to text Akechi though. He was dreading that part. After a few minute he settled on sending something simple to just probe for more information first.

 

**Akira:** Did you see what happened online?

 

He didn’t want to give too much away and reveal just how involved in the fandom he really was, but he had to at least admit the news had somehow gotten back to him. He waited nervously. When he saw the message had been read, he tensed up. The moments were dragging on into infinity as his fate was being decided. There was a long pause and he finally let out the breath he’d been holding when Akechi started typing. At least he wasn’t ignoring him but he seemed to be typing a lot. Eventually his phone pinged with Akechi’s message but Akira wasn’t out of the woods yet.

 

**Akechi:** Akira, I am so sorry this happened. I was worried about something like this. I should not have acted so boldly and jeopardized your privacy. Truthfully, I just could not help myself. I find you incredibly attractive but that is no excuse for my actions. I do not know if there is any way to undo this damage and it is likely that they will eventually find out your identity, whether we keep interacting or not. I am sorry to burden you like this and I understand if you would rather not see me again to avoid further backlash. They might stop eventually if we stopped seeing each other. This is why I never date. I was worried about this. God! I was so careless. I do not want to influence your decision but I just want you to know that I like being around you and would be willing to withstand the torment to be able to continue things with you. If you do not reply, I will understand and leave you alone. Again, I am sorry.

 

Akira stared at the message for a while. He’d gone through a roller coaster of emotions reading that. Akechi was so raw and honest and unafraid to say his feelings and sensitive to others. He was perfect. At first it looked like he was just breaking it off, but the last part was the exact opposite. Akira didn’t even need to plead with him. Akechi wanted him as he was! He finally replied back once he stopped hyperventilating.

 

**Akira:** I want to be with you and go on more dates.

**Akechi:** Thank god! I was worried you would have me. I am sorry that things got out like this. Perhaps if we made things official publically, it would help, or is that too invasive?

**Akira:** I guess they’d find out anyway, so it doesn’t matter.

**Akechi:** That is true. Excellent this. I will try to spin things around. I want my fans to love you as well. 

**Akira:** As long as you do.

 

Fuck! He didn’t mean to send that! Shit, Akechi was typing. Shit Shit Shit.

 

**Akechi:** I do. 

**Akira:** I love you too.

 

And with that Akira died and went to heaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting these losers to get together and all the filler stuff is going nail bitingly slow. I'm a few chapters away from when things start to get out of control. Akira is tangled in a very dramatic mess but it's going going to get worse from here.
> 
> Stay tuned!


	8. Chapter 8

Akira was on cloud nine. Akechi had said he loved him and Akira said it back. He was in heaven. He wanted to live in his fairytale forever. 

He spent the next few days going on dates with Akechi, holding hands with him, kissing his soft lips, and getting to hear his angelic voice addressing only him. The internet calmed down a little once they were distracted by something else to yell about. They had unfortunately uncovered Akira’s identity before Akechi could do any damage control. He received some threats but ultimately it didn’t matter and he didn’t care. He had won. This wasn’t the first time rumors had been spread about him. Since it was local news, it didn’t even really reach the attention of his friends besides Ryuji, but the jock was over the moon that Akira was dating a celebrity anyway. He obviously wanted those sweet famous people perks. Everything was going great, that was, until he received a message from Futaba.

 

**Futaba:** Come over after class! 

**Akira:** Welcome back.

**Futaba:** Thank you. Please come over. 

**Akira:** All right. I’ll see you. 

**Futaba:** THANK YOU ψ( ` Д ´ )ψ

 

“I have a bad feeling,” Fakechi murmered. 

“Me too,” Morgana agreed. 

Akira took a trip to Yongen-Jaya when his classes let out. He told Akechi he’d go over to his place once he was done. They were going to watch a movie and cuddle.

He arrived at the Sakura household and let himself in, heading up to Futaba’s room. He knocked once and went in.

“Ah intruder!” Futaba spun around in her chair dramatically to face him. Her feet were on the chair, her legs were scrunched up in her baggy shirt so that her knees were against her chest, and there was a kitchen knife in her hands. 

“It’s me,” Akira sighed and shut the door behind himself. He didn’t even wait for her to drop the knife before he just threw his bag on the bed and started picking the trash off her floor. This was his usual service to her. 

“Akira, you did come!” Futaba relaxed and let out a dramatic sigh. She pun back around and put the knife back in her desk drawer. “I thought you were an intruder. Where’s Morgana? Give me the kitty.” 

“I don’t have him right now. I’m going on a date after this,” Akira explained as he cleaned. 

“Boo! With who?” Futaba asked. 

“Goro Akechi.” 

“Ah! That’s actually why I called you here,” she said with a mischievous cackle. 

“What?” Akira stopped cleaning and wandered over to her computer setup to find out what was up. 

“Akira I have a confession to make. I actually follow Akechi’s social media stuff…” Futaba admitted, looking up at him through her bangs. She wrestled her legs out of her shirt cocoon to plant her feet on the floor and winced. “Ah they fell asleep!” 

“What about Akechi?” Akira tried to keep her on track. 

“Well you caused a huge shit storm by dating him and it was hard to do at the campsite, but I tried to keep people from doxxing you best I could. You’re lucky I knew about this by the way, since you didn’t tell me anything, you big jerk. How can I be your techie if you don’t tell me stuff?”

“Thank you, but why would I have told you? I didn’t know you even liked him,” Akira said. 

“I love the fanfics about him. They’re all juicy!” Uh-oh. “Anyway, while I was making sure no one dug up your criminal record, I tried to hide anything else you didn’t want people to know about.” Uh-oh. “And I tracked your IP address and found out something really juicy!” UH-OH. “You frequent Fantasy Archive so I hacked into your account.” No! “You’re Joker! You wrote my favorite fanfic!” 

Akira hid his face in his hands. 

“No! Oh my god! But Akira, you’re actually dating Akechi now! It’s like fate and destiny had a baby and that baby is your relationship! And I’M the only one that knows your secret! What a twist!” Futaba waved her arms around and kicked her legs in excitement. 

“You can’t tell anyone,” Akira said through his hands. 

“Oh please. Do not doubt me, peon. I already hid the trail that leads back to you. You are welcome by the way.” Futaba flipped her hair back over her shoulders and huffed. 

“Thank you.” 

“But, oh my god, this is so hot! Please tell me everything for my own fics!”

“Maybe later.” 

“Please, Akira! Please!” Futaba begged, pouting and grabbing at his arms until he dropped them from his face. 

Akira took a long moment to answer. “We haven’t had sex yet.” 

“Holy shit! You? You have sex with everyone all the time! How?” Futaba stared at him with childish bewilderment. Akira just shrugged. “Okay well get on that! You’re Joker! You can do better than that! Then tell me everything.” 

“He seems to like me, not Joker,” Akira corrected, realizing he was much softer than his online persona. 

“Uh-huh.” A pause. “I did see one more thing when I was snooping in your business actually.” Futaba clicked away on her computer to bring up a visitor log on Akira’s fanfic and pressed her finger to her screen. There was an IP address that was highlighted multiple times, someone who followed Joker closely, it seemed. “That’s Akechi’s IP address,” Futaba announced. 

Akira felt sick. “What?” he croaked. 

“This IP linked back to a really fancy building, so I wanted to know what type of creepy Politician loved Akechi porn, and I set up a port scanner on the IP address to gain direct access to the computer, and it was Goro Akechi’s! He’s totally a Joker fan!” Futaba explained but Akira barely heard her over the loud buzzing sound in his ears. 

Did Akechi know he was Joker? Had this all been fake? He had posted chapters since they had been dating. Oh god, this was so embarrassing. He blinked and felt like he was about to pass out so he stumbled to the bed to sit down. 

“Isn’t this a good thing. That means he likes you, even if you are a dirty pervert,” Futaba reasoned.

“Oh god.” 

“Not good? Look, what you write is hot. He’s lucky to have you. He should beg you for you to write more…or for you to do it all to him in real life!” She tried to make him feel better. 

“I’m going to delete it.” The fantasy was too real. It was all too real; dating Akechi, his Joker story, people finding out about his obsession, what was next, people knowing about Fakechi? No. He wanted to purge everything. It was all nice when it was pretend, but as each and every thing turned out to be real, he got more and more uneasy. He didn’t like all this fuss. 

“No don’t! You can’t. It’s my favorite. It’s Akechi’s favorite!” Futaba scrambled. “I won’t let you. I’ll doxx you myself, Akira. You can’t delete it. The world needs you…please?” 

Akira sighed and got up. Maybe he was being too rash. “Fine.” 

“Whoo!” She spun in her chair triumphantly. 

“Please don’t tell the others,” he said softly. 

“Oh of course not. It’ll be our little secret,” Futaba said with a wink. 

“Thank you.” Akira collected his things and the bag of trash to throw out. “I’ll see you later.” 

“Bye bye…” She pouted and returned to her research when he left. He seemed sad but she wasn’t sure how to help.

Akira headed home and messaged Akechi to tell him he wouldn’t be coming over because he didn’t feel well. Akechi understood but was disappointed. He wished him well and they rescheduled for the next day. Akira wasn’t sure he wanted to go over then either, but he would make an effort to sort out his feelings by then. He was overwhelmed but everything seemed normal on Akechi’s end, so maybe he had just been jumping to conclusions and Akechi didn’t actually know his secret and it was all just a coincidence.

For the rest of the night, instead of updating or doing homework, he had his arms wrapped tight around a sleeping Morgana and was curled up with his head in Fakechi’s lap. At least he still had his imaginary friend. As Fakechi stroked his hair, he whined and scrolled through Akechi’s social media posts, trying to find evidence or signs of him liking Joker before. He couldn’t find anything. Akechi was pretty good at hiding stuff. Akira felt so drained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double post because I need to catch up! Still behind anyway though.
> 
> Futaba is a gem and I totally relate to her: curled up in a shirt cocoon; has a knife. Don't we all, Futaba?


	9. Chapter 9

Akechi was actually glad Akira cancelled their plans. He was having a problem that he wouldn’t have been able to explain and he needed to deal with it before their next date. The problem was that someone hacked into Akechi’s laptop. He knew this because he had extremely expensive, government issued malware protection due to being part of the police. So when someone looked into his files, it pinged him with an IP address and, luckily for him, an exact physical address. It wasn’t always that accurate and sometimes only returned a general location, not that this had ever happened before, but sometimes it could work miracles.

The malware detector had informed Akechi that the person who hacked him was at Sojiro Sakura’s house. It must have been Futaba, since Sojiro was a dunce and she was the known leader of Medjed, Alibaba the super hacker. Akechi could only come to one conclusion: Futaba knew about his involvement in Wakaba Isshiki’s, her mother’s suicide, or rather, Akechi’s murder of Wakaba Isshiki. That’s why she hacked him; she was looking for evidence.

That also left Akira, a “family friend” to the Sakuras. What if he was involved? What if he was trying to gather clues and Futaba just got impatient and slipped up? They had been setting him up all along. They were both rats, so it made sense for victimized criminals to band together to seek their twisted brand of justice. What they didn’t count on was Akechi being a much better detective than they gave him credit for. He wouldn’t be done in that easily.

First he would have to get a hold of Futaba. He would interrogate, and failing that, torture her to find out what she knew and where she was hiding the evidence. Then, once she cracked, he’d kill her.

Next he’d have to deal with Akira before he got suspicious. It was a pity really. He had like playing pretend with him, but he couldn’t be trusted, no matter how much he begged.

Oh he looked forward to this. He’d been getting wound up doing so much domestic crap with Akira all week. He was disappointed things would have to end so soon, but he was excited for the climax either way.

He started to think about all the things he would do to them. Futaba obviously he would make look like a suicide like her mother, but where did that leave Akira? He wanted to hurt him badly, but then he would have clearly been murdered if he was found that way. Well, he was an addict. Maybe he could play off of that. Maybe he could convince Akira to do it all to himself and not even lay a finger on him. That way, the police wouldn’t investigate, as all the wounds would be self-inflicted. But that wouldn’t be fun. If all else failed he could just eat the evidence and no one would ever know what happened. That sounded interesting at least.

He’d have to decide later and deal with Futaba now. Unfortunately, it was too late to nab her, since Sojiro would be home by then. He would just have to go in the morning.

When everyone had left the house for the day, Sojiro going to the café and Futaba gone to school, Akechi broke in by picking the lock on the back door. The street was barren so no one would see him. He planned on searching her room for clues and then hiding in her closet for when she got home. There was a window where she’d be alone when he would grab her and get the information from her directly. He’d then stage her suicide and be home and cleaned up in time for his rescheduled movie night with Akira. He’d then take his time dealing with his liar boyfriend.

Akechi snooped around the house a little bit and didn’t find much interest but he mainly wanted to search Futaba’s room. When he entered he scowled at the giant mess. You couldn’t tell Akira had cleaned up at all. With a sigh, he headed over to the computer, knowing anything important would be there. He took a seat and woke the machine up. She didn’t have a password, like a legitimate moron, but maybe Sojiro needed to get on sometimes and was too stupid to figure out how to log in otherwise. He assumed anything sensitive, she probably password protected or encrypted.

Once he was in, he started digging and noticed in her internet browser she was logged onto FantasyArchive. Of course she was a fangirl. He rolled his eyes and was about to click away when he noticed her username. Wait what? Futaba was Joker? No. That couldn’t be, Akechi started to look through her recent files with a little more haste. If she were actually Joker, she would have hard copies of his stories somewhere. She didn’t seem to, however he did find an image she’d created the day before that explained everything.

Futaba, for some creepy reason, had created a giant mood board of Akechi and Akira. He tried not to look at it too long, but noticed a section with Joker’s icon and Akira’s profile picture. Both were circled with arrows pointing at each other. Ah. Akira was Joker. Wait WHAT?

With renewed vigor, Akechi looked for solid proof of his findings. He found Akira’s email and the IP log and how Futaba had hacked him. Everything was right there on her computer. She must have just hacked him to find out his identity when she hacked Joker’s account. It seemed like Akira was never even involved. This meant they had no idea about Wakaba, as he could find literally nothing about her that would indicate anything about him. So he was wrong. They didn’t need to die after all. Oops.

But this also meant Futaba and maybe Akira knew he read Joker’s fanfiction a lot. That was very damaging to his image. He’d have to probe Akira for information to determine his next course of actions. Joker, or rather, Akira wrote this stuff because he was into it and had apparently been stalking Akechi for years. He could use that to his advantage. Akira was already helplessly devoted it seemed, so he needed to do a lot less work if that were the case. If they both knew Akira’s secret, he could try out what he had wanted to do all along instead of all this fluffy nonsense. No, this wasn’t bad at all. He could get on top of this and control it.

Not wanting to get caught, Akechi returned everything to how it had been and left the Sakura house as it was, Futaba alive and all. He returned home and waited for Akira to come over, almost giddy with excitement.

When Akira walked in to his apartment, he seemed tried, but he always did. Maybe it was from juggling his schoolwork with fucking everyone he knew on the regular, and constantly lusting after his now-boyfriend at night. He was a real mystery. Akechi showed him around with a warm smile. He didn’t immediately blow his load, as he wanted to wait for the right moment.

They watched their movie while Akira lay close with Akechi’s arm around his shoulders. Finally when it was done, he leaned over until his lips were practically touching Akira’s ear to whisper to him.

“I know you’re Joker.”

Akira jumped about ten feet and scrambled back on the couch until his back was against the opposite arm, staring at him like a trapped animal. Finally that unreadable mask of his was broken. He looked around, contemplating an escape. He seemed to curse himself for reacting when he could have played it off like he didn’t know what Akechi was talking about. He looked like he wanted to cry. Oh it was so delicious watching his entire like crumble around him. He loved Akechi so much and his position was in jeopardy. He’d do anything Akechi wanted now to make this go away. It looked like it hurt to have all this happen. It was almost as good as torture.

“Ok.” Akira finally said after he composed his thoughts. He clearly had no idea where to go from there. There were too many variables.

“You tricked me,” Akechi declare, enjoying watching Akira squirm. His big eyes seemed to lose focus.

“No…” Akira took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to explain himself, but he couldn’t. “I didn’t try to.” He didn’t even realize or remember that he knew Akechi read his work and that he was being manipulated.

“I like it,” Akechi clarified with a smirk.

“You…what?” Akira couldn’t comprehend what was happening. He was so cute when he was experiencing emotional whiplash.

“I do have one critique though.”

“What is it?” he asked with a furrowed brow, perplexed by the situation.

“Your most recent sex scene where Joker ties me up,” Akechi began with a grin, “I needs work. I would never let my rival win like that. I should have been on top.” Akira looked at the door again, but looked back and frowned, apparently able to get upset that he was wrong about Akechi even while his life was exploding. Good. “Would you like me to show you?” He asked softly and Akira nodded like a sad puppy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akechi's starting to show his true colors.
> 
> As an aside, I actually was going to have him kill Futaba originally when I realized that was the only option he had. You can all thank Zippy for coming up with an alternative and saving her life.
> 
> Next chapter is double in length and SEXY SEX.
> 
> See you soon!


	10. Chapter 10

Akira’s mind swam. How did Akechi find out? Did Futaba tell him? Why would she? Maybe he knew since the beginning in the coffee shop. Either way, Akechi said he liked it, so that meant it was okay, right? He wanted to try stuff just like Futaba had said he would. Also Akira had been right the first time about Akechi being dominant. That was a bit of a bonus. He wasn’t sure what to think and was experiencing a torrent of emotions, but he had to focus. Akechi wanted his attention. He could figure out how to feel about all this later.

Akechi got off the couch and took Akira’s hand, pulling him up as well to lead them towards his bedroom. “Do you use the same safe word with everyone or do you personalize it?” he asked as casually as he’d ask how someone took their coffee.

“Uhh…” Akira wasn’t sure how to answer that. Akechi had implied he was fucking a bunch of people. He was but – 

“How did I know about your exploits?” Akechi said, reading his mind. “I’m a detective, silly. If you don’t want to answer, I’d like to request my own. I am your boyfriend after all. I don’t think it’s too outlandish to ask for a certain amount of special treatment.”

“Okay,” Akira agreed to that. “By the way, since we started dating, I haven’t –“

“Really?” Akechi cut him off, “I find that hard to believe, but if you are capable of remaining exclusive, I would prefer it.” Akira didn’t answer and looked away. “Alright. That is obviously a lot to ask. You can tell me when you are ready to devote yourself to me I suppose. Until then, I will just do my best to change your mind.” They walked into his bedroom and Akechi shoved him face first down onto the bed. “That brings us back to the safe word discussion. I need you to pick something, Akira. Unless you think you don’t need one that is.”

Akira lay with his face in the blanket. It was like a switch had flipped in Akechi. He was still confident as ever, but he had become colder, his pleasant voice had a domineering undertone. The worst part was that Akira sort of liked it. He was beneath Akechi in status, grace, and everything else, so the thought of being controlled by him was fitting and made him feel fuzzy and warm.

He turned over and supported himself on his elbows and looked at his boyfriend, who seemed to be losing his patience waiting for an answer. Oh right, a safe word. “Banana?” He didn’t sound super sure of himself. It was hard to think straight right now.

“God, Akira.” Akechi rolled his eyes. “Fine. It’s Banana. I implore you to try to remember it.”

The detective ran his fingers through his hair and loosened his tie. “Akira, I need you to strip. Leave the rest to me.” He watched him with a predatory gaze that drilled into Akira’s soul, yet somehow still kept the same pleasant smile on. It was chilling.

Akira complied and pulled off his white oxford. He started to fold it neatly, but Akechi was making him nervous so he lost it onto the floor and just moved on. He wanted to make his partner happy. He could definitely give a good strip tease, even if he felt as if he were being judged. Half his friends were highly moody and judgmental anyway.

He watched Akechi smirk and cross his arms at the foot of the bed and tried to return to his usual level of functioning. He took off his glasses and set them aside and he finally braved to make eye contact with Akechi. He lost the puppy dog look to go for a more smoldering gaze so that he could seem more like Joker. Akechi raised his eyebrows in approval. Okay, so he was onto the right idea.

Akira pilled his t-shirt off slowly, letting the fabric cling to his skin as he stretched it. He shifted to purposely show off his abs. Ah, gaze in wonder at his soft skin and rippling muscles. Yes Akechi, he did work out.

After flinging his shirt into the void, Akira crawled over to Akechi, shaking his butt teasingly, and swung his legs around to sit at the edge of the bed. He stared up at him and started on his belt, keeping eye contact as he snaked it out of the loops. He took Akechi’s hand and placed the belt onto it. His boyfriend seemed amused by his performance. At least he was warming up a little.

Akira undid his pants and wriggled out of them, standing so they pooled on the floor at his feet. Akechi pushed him back down with a couple fingers and chuckled softly.

“Boxers too,” he instructed, discarding the belt behind him.

Complying with his command, he slid out his boxers to reveal that he was already hard. Being bossed around apparently got him going. He felt a little awkward being completely naked while the other party was clothed but he also felt exhilarated. He was eager to please Akechi.

“Mn.” Akechi appraised his conquest as if he were a sculptor approaching the beginnings of a masterpiece. “Will you obey me unconditionally from this point forward, Joker?” He accentuated his name Akira nodded. “Good. Then you will address me as ‘Sir’ since I am your superior and you are nothing but a criminal.”

“Yes, sir,” Akira said with a grin. This was fun. He had done some roleplaying with like Haru and Iwai, but nothing so dark. He liked trying new things and it was even better with Akechi.

The boy detective seemed satisfied and left Akira to sit pretty while he walked over to explore in his closet. He kicked a plain box out to the center of the floor between it. Akechi haphazardly started throwing objects he was interested in onto the bed as if to taunt Akira with them. He found a black bottle of silicone-based lube; at least he wasn’t that cruel. Along with that was a pair of handcuffs, a blindfold, and a sleek and simple, black cock ring. He kicked the box back into the closet and returned to the bed, pulling on the sleek leather gloves he wore to work.

“You’ll have to excuse me, I’d rather not touch filthy attic trash,” Akechi stated with a steely gaze that made Akira shudder. How did he know that? “Now then, put your hands behind your back.” He smiled when Akira complied, grabbing the handcuffs to restrain him. The metal was cold and bit into his wrists.

Akira wondered vaguely if they have a safety but was ripped from his thoughts as Akechi wrapped a hand around his dick and stroked him gently. Akira let out a content sigh and felt a head rising from his groin that was abruptly cut off as Akechi slipped on the silicone ring with a little slight of hand. He hadn’t even seen him pick it up. Akechi continued to stroke him teasingly until Akira started to whine.

“Do you want something?” Akechi wondered, feigning ignorance. Akira nodded. “Ah well,” he started and reached around him to place the bottle of lube in his bound hands. “Do it yourself.”

Akira bit his lip and nodded. “Yes sir.” He uncapped the bottle, fumbled to pour some of the cold thick liquid into his hand, and then capped and dropped the container. Akechi as still playing with him and stroking his thigh tenderly, so when he leaned over, he ended up kneeling with his head in Akechi’s lap. He felt he was hard as well and was pleased this was doing it for him too.

That was all the encouragement Akira needed and he reached back to part himself and insert a slick finger in with a shudder. He tensed for a second but relaxed and started exploring his own cavity for himself. It was a bit of a struggle with the handcuffs and the chain was pressing painfully into his lower back, but he was making it work. He added a second finger in as Akechi pet his head in the way he loved so much. He would have wondered how he was so good at guessing what he liked, but Akechi knew him already from his stories, the same way he knew Akechi from TV. This was fate. Akira let out a groan and nuzzled Akechi’s crotch.

Things faded to black in an instant as Akechi pulled the blindfold on over Akira’s eyes and tied it tight. He jumped and arched forward as he felt those gloved fingers run down his spine. Akechi had forgotten all about his throbbing dick now and moved on to find other ways to entertain himself. Akira heard a snicker.

“You truly are pathetic, Joker. Your desperation is disappointing. Don’t you have any self respect?” Akechi kept stroking down his back, making him twitch and shiver. “Don’t answer that. I can’t stand to hear your voice. Everything you say is a dirty lie anyway.” He yanked on a handful of Akira’s hair. “Keep going, I didn’t tell you to stop.”

“Yes sir,” Akira yelped and added a third finger with a hiss. He kept brushing his prostate but he couldn’t quite reach where he wanted with the handcuffs limiting his movement.

“I just told you to shut up and here you are talking.” He seemed like he was rolling his eyes. “Fine. I will just have to shut you up myself.” The hands left him and Akira could hear him unbuckle his pants and pull down his zipper. He felt Akechi’s erection caressing his face like an old lover. He wanted to see it so badly. He bet it was lovely.

“In lieu of a gag, I figured you could put your foul mouth to use. How’s that Joker?” Akechi chided. He hummed when Akira opened his mouth eagerly, grabbed a fist full of hair and guided himself in. Akira would have to settle for taste over sight. “Mn. Good boy. I hope you know this is all you’re good for.”

Akechi’s biting words made Akira shiver and his dick twitch. He bobbed his head gently as he played with himself. Akechi smelled clean and he was so warm. His penis was as intoxicating as his kisses and Akira was desperate for more. He was starting to get worked up and that cock ring was starting to make him ache. He was having so much fun though. Akechi was more intense than he’d imagined but he loved it.

“You know, maybe I’d be willing to look the other way regarding your past if you were to give up your life of crime and became my bed slave,” Akechi offered, still cool as a cucumber. Akira managed to pry a low moan out of him by scraping his teeth up his shaft. “Is that a yes?”

Akira decided to get into the roleplay a little more, since Akechi was doing such a good job of being in character. Joker was a strong willed, rebellious boy and Akira needed to get more into that headspace. He could be confident while sucking a dick so he needed to show that. He mumbled a “Nu-uh” that sounded more like a moan, but he clearly refused the offer. Even if he’d normally die to be Akechi’s pet, he wanted to act like a hard sell.

“No? Ah well. I was going to try to make this enjoyable but I guess you’re too stubborn. Typical.” Akechi wrenched Akira’s head back off his dick and kept pulling him back and back until he was sitting up. “Stop playing with yourself like a disgusting whore, Joker,” he ordered, unamused.

Akira pulled his fingers out and without missing a beat; Akechi shoved down to the side and pressed his face into the mattress. He grabbed the lube and poured some onto his glove. He pressed a finger into Akira and then another, making him squirm and whine. His hands strained against the restraints as he twisted under Akechi’s divisive movements. He was able to reach deep inside him and undo him completely. Akira was left panting when Akechi pulled his fingers out.

Akechi rolled Akira over and parted his legs, leaning forward to tilt his chin up and kiss him tenderly. Akira responded back greedily, trying to get more contact. He was denied as those sweet lips peppered kisses down his chin and neck until Akechi bit down, sucking and licking at the spot he chose roughly. Akira tilted his head back and groaned.

“Akechi…sir! Please!”

“Please what?” Akechi murmured against his neck, seemingly letting his slipup go. He picked a new spot to bruise with his mouth.

“Please fuck me!” Akira begged, wriggling under him helplessly.

“Mn. Alright.” Akechi positioned a hand under Akira’s thigh and slid his dick into his captive at a pace good for him. He didn’t really wait around before he started thrusting into him, humming to himself contently. “You feel great for such a loose slut.”

Akira moaned loudly, unable to control himself and smiled at the compliment. Akechi took his smirk as an insult and pounded into him, making him cry out. He was just as good as he had imagined. No. Better. Sorry Fakechi. He just had everything he wanted in that moment and more.

Akechi started to grow sporadic and his breath became erratic as he was coming close to the end. He took Akira’s neglected penis in his free, non-support hand. Akira kept feeling the pleasure build up but that cock ring was stopping him just short of his release and Akira’s hand was just adding more to it. He was starting to feel like if he had an orgasm he would also die. When Akechi came right into him with a pleased grunt, he thought he was so close he was almost there too. How poetic. Their bodies were in synch as they became one.

Well, that was, until Akechi pulled out and took his hand away, leaving Akira to be a lonely, out of breath wreck. He was so turned on and sticky and sweaty. Why wasn’t it over?

He heard Akechi chuckle and felt the bed shift, as he seemed to be getting something. “Come on, Joker. Did you really think I’d let you off that easy?”

Akira heard a click and then light flooded into his vision as the blindfold was pilled down around his neck sloppily. He turned towards Akechi and the source of the noise and recoiled back on the bed. Akechi didn’t let him get too far as he pulled him back by the fabric loop around his neck. He had a gun, his actual gun it seemed, pointed at Akira’s head. The click was the sound of him cocking it. Akira pulled against his handcuffs weakly. Was this still a game? They didn’t say the safe word or anything, so maybe.

“Relax. I won’t kill you,” Akechi smirked. Thank god for that at least. “It just seems that you’re having trouble getting off and I thought I would help you out.” Akechi dropped his hold on him and somehow found the lube bottle.

Suddenly, Akira understood what was happening and started to panic. He couldn’t fuck a gun. Wait. Would he fuck a gun? He somehow never considered it despite his interactions with Iwai of all people. Maybe it was because it was unsafe. But Akechi wanted him to do it. He did say he would do anything for Akechi. Maybe God was testing him. Well, he would pass. There was nothing Akira couldn’t fuck and he’d prove it. Yeah. He watched Akechi methodically lube up his actual fucking gun and tried to steel his nerves, looking at him defiantly, as Joker would.

“Ready or not,” Akechi joked and carefully found Akira’s opening, positioning his weapon at the entrance. He lovingly brushed it softly over his sensitive skin to tease him and then started to push it in. Now that Akira could see his face, he saw that he was delighted to watch him squirm.

Akira tried to spread his legs to accommodate the sort of sharp firearm being inserted into him and Akechi stroked his leg reassuringly, trying to soothe him.

“Shhh. We’re almost there. Look at how good you’re doing,” Akechi giggled and stopped when he got it in all the way to the trigger guard. It hurt pretty bad but Akechi looked so pleased that Akira was starting to get worked up again just looking at his angelic visage. “You are really fucked up if you’re getting off on this, Joker. You truly are a nasty crime boy. It’s written in your DNA. I was naïve to think you would ever change.”

Akira cried out when Akechi started to move the gun, pulling it almost all the way out and thrusting it in, building up to a fairly aggressive pace. He must have been pretty strong to do this. The funny thing was, Akira was enjoying it, being talked down to, the pain, the danger. It was making him hornier than he’d ever been in his life. Akechi was amazing. He started moaning repeatedly and threw his head back on the pillow.

“Heh. You’re pathetic. I cannot believe you thought you could rival me. Look at you now, nothing but a sex addicted slut.” Akechi found the best angle that made Akira scream and hit that spot over and over. He finally grabbed Akira’s dick again and pumped it roughly with his thrusts. The leather felt so soft. It was a new and amazing combination. “I should just kill you now and put you out of your misery.”

“Wait –“ Akira didn’t have time to say anything before Akechi paused, his curled fingers flush against his skin so he could feel him moving, feel him pull the trigger, hear the click as the slider shot back into place. It felt like time stopped. Akira screamed and finally, finally found his release after it had built up for so long. It was the most intense orgasm of his life and he was left shaking as he ejaculated into Akechi’s capable hand. Did he die? He felt dead. He died and went to heaven obviously.

Akechi had to remove his dirty-ass gun from Akira’s ass and did so with care. “Sorry,” he whispered as Akira winced from being dead and dying. Akechi seemed soft again somehow. Maybe it was Fakechi there to usher him in to heaven. Akechi saw him looking up at him and smiled sweetly in return. “That was fun.” Akira nodded weakly in agreement; realizing now he probably wasn’t actually dead. “You did really good. I’ll get you cleaned up. Let me take care of everything.”

And Akira did. Akechi released him from the cock ring and the handcuffs and threw all of the soiled items elsewhere, probably in the bathroom sink. He returned with a damp towel and sat with sleepy, abused Akira, cleaning him off and stroking his hair so gently. It was such a sharp contrast to earlier but it made Akira relax and feel cozy as he came down from his euphoric high.

“I’m sorry I was so rough. It seems I made you bleed. I hope I didn’t take it too far,” Akechi said in concern.

“No, that was fun,” Akira mumbled, completely spent.

“Oh good. I’m really glad,” he smiled, leaning down to kiss his forehead; lingering there as if he were taking in Akira’s essence. “I love you so much, Akira. I’m so happy right now.”

Akira could have cried. This was the best result possible. He was elated that things turned out the way they did. It could have gone terrible. He could have lost Akechi. But he didn’t. “I love you too.” They fell asleep together, cuddling each other close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the double long chapter and I hope my sex was sexy enough. Please excuse all the editing errors. I feel like I should reiterate that I'm not looking any of these over. I know mistakes can really pull someone out of the moment for smut in particular, so I wanted to apologize again.
> 
> Things aren't slowing down just yet so strap in for a bumpy ride.
> 
> See you next time!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

In the morning, Akira had school, but he actually woke up alone. Confused and sore, he wandered out of the bedroom to find a note and a plate of breakfast. It seemed Akechi tended to get up at 5am on the regular. It turned out was a great cook, so the food sort of made up for not getting a goodbye kiss.

“I can give you a goodbye kiss,” Fakechi cooed and hugged Akira, kissing the side of his head affectionately.

“Aw. Thanks buddy,” Akira snickered as he tried to continue cleaning up after breakfast.

Before school, Akira went back to his dorm to feed Morgana who was purring loudly at him in protest when he came in.

“Hey you forgot about me!” Morgana whined.

“Sorry. I’ll call next time. I had a sleep over,” Akira snickered and got him some dry food.

“No, I want wet.”

“Not until later.” Akira’s phone went off; he had a text.

“Ugh. Nice hickeys by the way,” Morgana laughed and dug into his food, making loud crunching noises.

Akira decided to change into a turtleneck while he checked his texts.

 

**Iwai:** Come to the shop today. I got something for you.

 

“Hmm is that a good idea?” Fakechi wondered.

“Yeah. Why not?”

“I distinctly remember a conversation about exclusivity,” he explained, putting a hand on his hip.

“Yeah, we agreed not yet,” Akira argued and lowered his voice a little. “Iwai buys all our clearly obvious garbage. If it weren’t for him, we’d be homeless by now. I don’t want to get on his bad side.” Besides, he was just fun to do things with.

“I see your point. Maybe just bring it up again with me later, just to make sure,” he offered.

“Sounds good to me,” Akira shrugged and headed to class.

At the gun shop later, Akira found out Iwai’s surprise for him. It was a schoolgirl outfit. He blinked when he pulled it out of the gift bag and cracked a large grin, bursting out into laughter. What a good present. This was why he liked hanging out with his shopkeeper friend.

“A regular got it for me as a sort of gag gift. Said I needed to get laid and that I should give it to my girlfriend. Can you imagine what sort of bastard says that to a guy?” Iwai grumbled but laughed along with Akira.

“I love it,” Akira admitted with a snicker. “Want me to try it on?” When Iwai blushed and looked away from him, he took that as his cue to disappear into the back room. When he emerged again minutes later, he took a seat on the counter in front of Iwai’s chair and crossed his legs so that Iwai could stare right at his red panties. He reached over to take the lollipop from Iwai’s mouth and popped it into his own, giving it a big suck. “What do you think?”

Iwai looked like his jimmies were definitely rustled and he made a point of turning his head away from the legs in his face, but kept glancing back over. He chuckled nervously. “Jesus, kid, you really have no shame do you?”

“Nah.” Akira shrugged. “Do you like it though?”

“Yeah. Shut up.” Iwai admitted with a grumble and Akira laughed at him.

“I’ll be your store mascot!” He suggested. “Welcome to Untouchable, sir. How may I assist you today?” Akira mimicked and leaned forward to tilt Iwai’s chin towards him with a delicate finger.

Iwai slapped his hand away and gave him a testy look. “Don’t do that.”

“We offer a wide variety of services for an affordable cost,” Akira continued, undeterred. He reached out with his foot, new knee high sock scrunched down at his ankle, and tilted his chin up with his toes instead. Iwai growled and grabbed his foot, yanking him off balance. Akira came loose from the counter and landed in Iwai’s lap to avoid crashing to the floor. He wrapped his arms around his neck and pointed his leg out gracefully.

“You’re an insufferable brat,” Iwai said with a chuckle, shaking his head.

Akira sucked on his lollipop and shrugged nonchalantly, nuzzling his head in the crook of Iwai’s neck. “Do you want me to call you ‘daddy’ instead?”

“Oh sure!” was the sarcastic reply from the shop owner.

“Okay, daddy.”

“Wait fuck!” Oh it’s too late isn’t it? You’re never going to stop are you?” Iwai hissed and ruffled Akira’s hair.

“Nope,” Akira snickered.

“I really hate you sometimes, kid. When are you gonna take that stupid thing off?” Iwai lifted the skirt him a bit and wiggled it up and down pointedly.

“Never. Take it off me yourself,” Akira suggested.

“Fuck. Alright, come here.” Iwai hooked an arm under Akira’s legs and scooped him up, standing with a grunt. He was strong but Akira wasn’t light like a girl, even if he looked pretty like one.

Iwai took Akira into the back room to show him a good time, but decided to let him leave the skirt on. Maybe he secretly liked it and was hoping Akira would be into it too, despite framing it as an ironic joke. Well, mission success.

What Akira didn’t see was that Akechi had followed him afterschool and Akechi also saw what he had been doing with Iwai up until that point. The boy detective was smart enough to infer what happened next and he wasn’t super happy about it. He hadn’t actually come to an agreement yet with Akira, so he couldn’t exactly demand retribution, but he still felt angry so he decided to go blow off some steam.

When Akira was done his visit, he left to go back to Akechi’s apartment. He kept the skirt on since he thought it would be a nice surprise. If he didn’t like it, he could just get naked and the problem would be solved. What he didn’t know was this was his new outfit for the next few days. He would have dressed warmer if he had been a psychic.

Akira sort of liked the freedom of not wearing pants but also felt a hand groping his butt on the train and decided maybe he didn’t need to go out like that in public again. Unless of course, Akechi liked it, then he definitely would withstand the harassment and public humiliation. That did seem up Akechi’s alley now that he knew him a little better. His heart was sort of racing and he started to get hard just thinking about Akechi making him do humiliating things. He didn’t really mind dressing like a girl at all but Akechi’s judgmental gaze really did something to him.

“I think you look amazing,” Fakechi whispered hotly in his ear and Akira practically moaned. The hand that was kneading his ass moved to slip under his panties to stroke him teasingly. He bit his lip and gripped the pole he held tighter.

Wait. That wasn’t Fakechi. Oh, the guy was still touching him. Shit, was he being assaulted on the train for real? Had he liked it? Dammit. Akira realized maybe he had crossed the crazy line a little too far, but he’d reevaluate his mental health later. For now he had to pay attention. He was shaking and didn’t have the strength to turn around and look. He didn’t want to know, frankly. If he didn’t know it was still Fakechi.

Akira skittered off the train immediately at the next stop before any fingers could manage their way instead of him. He stopped once he was he was far enough away from the station and took a moment to try and calm down. He felt lightheaded and was out of breath. Did that actually happen? He was still worked up and horny from his own imagination so he was a literal hot mess. Since he wasn’t hurt or anything he decided it was best to just write it off, he’d get a hug from Akechi for his struggles and be done with it. Akechi would understand if no one else. He wasn’t going to let something like this ruin his day.

Luckily, he’d gotten off at the correct stop, despite his urgency to leave, so he didn’t have far to walk. He’d spend the rest of the way there holding hands with Fakechi, cracking jokes and talking about what to do on his date. He was getting reinvigorated and revved up again and was excited to shake his booty for his boyfriend. No harm, no foul.

When he arrived at Akechi’s place, there was definitely something foul. There was a person in the apartment. This person was actually a decidedly dead person who was lying on the floor in a pool of blood, blood that wound around the floor in square shapes following the crevices of the wood paneling. It came to a stop just short of the entrance here Akira was frozen in shock. He carefully shut the door behind him with his foot without looking back and took a deep breath. His mind went blank and needed to reboot so he just stood there, trying to understand what was happening. The air smelled like iron and bile and suddenly what happened earlier was the furthest thing from his mind.

“There’s obviously a good reason for this,” Fakechi said, making Akira tense from the unexpected presence next to him. He felt like he was in a horror movie. What would the protagonist of one of those do? “Maybe someone broke in. Try to keep quiet. Are there any weapons nearby?”

Akira glanced around from where he stood but couldn’t see much through the blurry haze he was in. All he could see was the body. There had been no sign of a break in. The apartment was clean otherwise. No one was there, so did that mean Akechi had done this? But why would he? He had been very aggressive in bed. Was the good-boy thing an act?

“Akira…you think I’m a bad guy?” Fakechi looked at him with an absolutely crushed expression as if Akira broke his heart into a million pieces. “Please, Akira. Even if I’ve done this…you have to understand. There was a good reason. You’re the only one that understands me. You’re the only one who would understand. You have to try. It can only be you. Save me, Akira.”

“Okay.”

“Akira is that you?” came the voice of the real Akechi. Akira looked over and saw him walking out of the kitchen. He was covered in blood. He looked rather alarmed. Akira glanced back at Fakechi who now was also coated in blood, but he was smiling softly.

Akira nodded, knowing he had to try to talk to Akechi about this, to understand him. Before he could even turn back to try, a hard, heavy object connected with the side of his head and stars exploded in his eyes before Fakechi was gone and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for posting so late! I have the next 3 chapters after this completely written and it's a WILD RIDE so strap in!
> 
> This is the beginning of the arc where it's no longer about the fanfictions and shit gets real.
> 
> See you later!


	12. Chapter 12

When Akira woke up his skull was throbbing and there was dried blood caked around the side of his head. He groaned and shifted uncomfortably, realizing vaguely that he was tied up. The person who had hit him had handcuffed his hands behind his back and tied his torso and legs to Akechi’s dining room chair. He was still in Akechi’s apartment! Oh god, Akechi was in danger. He needed to warn him.

“Oh good. You’re awake,” Akechi said, sitting across from him at the other end of the table, clearly not tied up or in danger. Oh. Akira got it. “I like your new outfit. You look cute like that.”

“Tied up?”

“No, the skirt. I’d say do it more often, but your chances might be limited,” Akechi shrugged. “I really wish you would have called first.”

“Sorry.”

“No worries. You do look good tied up too. Very vulnerable.” Akechi sighed and pushed himself to his feet. “Actually, I should be apologizing to you. I saw you with that yakuza trash and I just got so angry. I should have tried to be more understanding. I knew you were a slut before I asked you out, so this shouldn’t have been a surprise.” Akira looked down and Akechi slammed his hand on the table to get his attention, making him jump. “What would you do in my situation?”

“Have some compassion, Akira. I probably have a good reason,” the familiar voice of Fakechi cooed to him. He sat on the table, just off to Akira’s side with his legs politely crossed. Akechi was still rather blood, but Fakechi wasn’t. He was clean and angelic as always. Akira stared up at him as he spoke softly again. “I love you more than anything and I know you feel the same, so we just have to work things out. Try your best.”

“I asked you a question, Akira. Please try to pay attention,” Akechi said dryly, getting Akira to look back over to him.

“Uh. What situation?” Smoothe.

“You, walking in on my business,” Akechi clarified, raising an eyebrow. His boyfriend was a real space cadet that was for sure.

“What business?”

“Don’t play dumb!” Akechi snapped, putting a hand on his gun as it sat on the table.

Akira let out a deep breath and offered Akechi a shaky smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ugh!” He picked up the gun and marched over to him, pressing the cold metal to his forehead. “You saw everything and now you’re making me do this. I can’t trust you. You’re lying. You’re going to ruin everything! I wanted you to be mine but I can’t risk you turning me in.”

Akira looked up at him. The dried blood on Akechi’s face wasn’t his own, but it was Akira’s fault for making him mad in the first place. He would be clean too if it weren’t for Akira’s blunder. He was just as guilty, if not more so. With a quiet voice, he spoke again. “It’s my fault. I left the door unlocked by accident this morning and someone broke in. He even attacked me. You…you saved my life, Akechi.” He saw Fakechi nodding in encouragement out of the corner of his eye and he smiled.

Akechi faultered and seemed confused. He almost pulled away but just pressed the gun to his head harder, trying to keep his resolve. “You’re lying.”

“No. Why would I lie? You’re my hero. That guy hit me over the head. If it weren’t for you, who know what would have happened? Especially with me dressed like this. Someone put his hands on me on the subway earlier. I didn’t see who it was but what if he followed me here? What if that was him?” Akira kept eye contact and seemed to truly believe what he was rambling on about. Akech was good, so obviously all his actions were intrinsically good as well, so obviously whatever Akira had seen had a better explanation, one in which Akechi wasn’t a murderer.

The gun shook, as did Akechi’s hand, until he jerked his arm away and grimaced. “Did that actually happen?” Akira nodded in confirmation. “I’m sorry.” He paused and pointed the gun at him again. “I’m sorry but I can’t trust you.”

“I love you Akechi. I’d never betray you. I’d do anything for you.”

“Shut up.” He forced the gun into Akira’s mouth, breathing heavily as his resolve faltered and he got more and more confused. “I need to think. Just be quiet.” Akira watched him with his delicate, wide eyes, looking at him as if he were god, and it made Akechi scowl. “Anything? Really?” Akira couldn’t nod but he responded with a muffled confirmation. “Prove it. Suck on this. I’m going to blow your brains out while you pretend it’s my dick. A fitting end for someone like you, but it’s no problem if that’s what I want right?”

Akira gulped and started sucking at Akechi’s gun gently, the same way he’d give a blowjob. He stared at him with all the love in the world, his gaze saying, ‘I’m pretending this is you. Do you like it?’

Akechi laughed at him. “Unbelievable. Why do you love me so much? What is wrong with you?”

Akira shrugged and shifted as best he could to get a better angle for licking at the barrel, resolved to show Akechi he wasn’t going to snitch. With a hiss, his boyfriend pulled his gun away from him and threw it across the table. It slid off the other end and clattered to the floor.

“Fine. I won’t kill you,” Akechi grumbled with a scowl, clearly upset. “Why did you have to do this to me?” He slumped down in the chair next to him. “I want you around, okay? But how is this supposed to work out? You know way too much already.” He buried his face in his hands. “You don’t know how hard it’s been. I’ve always been alone. I had to work so hard and you just have everything without even trying like you have some guardian angel granting all your wishes or something.” He glanced at Akira, suddenly colder. “Everyone loves you. Why? You’re a filthy rat straight out of the dumpster and yet you’ve even convinced me to like you. You barely even try to hide anything about yourself. Why do people accept you and not me?”

Akira blinked. All this time, Akechi had suffered so much and he never knew about it. He painted him as a perfect person but he struggled just like everyone else. Being a celebrity probably just alienated him from everyone. It was a tragedy. No one deserved that, especially not Akechi. He deserved to be worshiped. He frowned. “Akechi... I’m sorry. I wish I could help.”

“Maybe it’s not so bad if you’re here.” Akechi got up and leaned over, brushing their lips together gently. Akira pushed back and hummed, shutting his eyes. But the kiss was short lived. When he opened his eyes, Akechi was gone. He started to panic and struggle against his bonds until he heard a chuckle. He turned his gaze frantically to see Akechi back where he’d started at the other side of the table. The gun was back where it had been sitting and he was holding a syringe, playing idly with the cap.

“Welcome back,” Akechi sung. “What did you see? It looked pleasant.” Akira stared in confusing. “Oh I gave you a drug that causes hallucinations. You like doing drugs right? I wanted to see what all the fuss was about fro myself.”

Akira’s eyes got wide as he tried to think back. How much of that wasn’t real? All of it? Fuck. He pulled at the handcuffs and frowned at his captor. He was clean; not a drop of blood in sight. Was he real or?

“You looked like you were seeing something rather lewd before. Was it about me?” Akechi wondered. Akira nodded nervously. “Good. It would benefit you to forget all others. I’m all there is now. I’m actually glad you walked in on my work. Now I don’t have to pretend anymore. It’s rather freeing. Well, for me, not for you. But you love me right? That’s definitely a plus. I see no reason to hurt you too badly if you cooperate.” Akira nodded again for him. “Good boy. I knew I could count on you, Akira.” Was this all just another hallucination?

Akechi stood and walked over to Akira, placing the syringe on the table. He stroked Akira’s cheek lightly with his thumb, earning a shiver from his captive. “Another effect of what I gave you is that it puts your nerves into overdrive, so everything that feels good will feel twice as good.” He moved his hand to stroke Akira’s hair where he’d hit him. Just his light touch felt like he’d poured salt in his cut and made Akira wince away from him. “Pain is intensified as well. This can go two ways. What do you think?” Akechi leaned in to whisper hotly in his ear. “I can make you feel really bad. Or I can make you feel better than you’ve ever felt.”

“Whatever you want,” Akira replied quietly.

“Good answer,” Akechi praised and kissed his temple. “You’re mine now, Akira. At first I thought about just killing you, but you’re too much fun to waste like that. I’m happy my assumptions were correct. I mean, look at what you showed up in! You’re adorable and ridiculous. No. Instead of just getting rid of you, I think we could definitely have some fun. You’ll see. You won’t have to worry about anything anymore. Soon, all you will remember is me, and I’ll take such good care of you that you’ll never want to leave.” Akira offered him a tentative smile as a reply. “That’s the spirit.”

Akechi grabbed the syringe and uncapped it. “Here; I’ll reward you for being so good.” Before Akira could object, the needle had gone into his neck. The pain from just that prick made him lose focus. He wined as he felt the mystery substance drain into his muscles and started to fade out. As he felt the world around him spin, he looked up and saw Fakechi, his muse, sitting near him with a serene smile, and he knew that everything would be all right. He’d be okay as like long as he had Akechi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Sorry for the long pause even though I promised a chapter every day. I'm actually almost completely done the fic and just have to type it all up now, so it'll be at least one chapter every dayish again now.
> 
> Just as a warning, I'm updating the tags as I'm going along but this whole thing gets pretty disturbing and gross. Things sort of got away from me but luckily it all gets tied up in the end.
> 
> See you soon!


	13. Chapter 13

While Akira was intoxicated, there was no reason to keep him tied up, so Akechi actually released him to flop around the apartment as he wished. He was in and out of reality as he rode some horrible, euphoric roller coaster that he wasn’t even lucid enough to know that he definitely wanted to get off. If he could think straight, he would have wondered what was given to him, since it was nothing like anything Tae had ever come up with.

At one point, Akira had imagined he was the murderer himself. He watched himself, sitting over the man he’d seen in the apartment, diving a kitchen knife into his chest, over and over, until his arms were sore and he was warm, wet, and dripping in blood. He imagined it was the person who had touched him on the train, whoever that was, and he laughed as he stole his life, reaching in him to feel his insides and violate him right back. He imagined the person under him was Akechi and continued to laugh even then.

When he woke up in a daze, he was curled up on the clean, corpseless floor, hugging the very knife he’d seen. His whole body was on fire as he had injured himself in his compromised state. He shook and started to cry as he realized he’d inflicted wounds upon himself, rather than anyone else. He tried to wake up from his dream but the pain felt so real, he wasn’t sure that it was just in his head.

Another vision he had was of a wild night with his boyfriend. They embraced and kissed and fucked each other raw and Akira couldn’t have been happier. Akechi had been right about feeling amazing. Every touch was electricity and he moaned loudly in unending pleasure. But then he realized it was just Fakechi cuddling him and fondling his dick, which was embarrassing enough as it was, but Fakechi wasn’t real either, so he was just touching himself shamefully while the real Akechi watched in amusement.

“You look cute in that skirt,” Akechi told him at some point, or so he thought. “Were you trying to pretend to be my girlfriend?” He teased and ruffled Akira’s hair, pulling him into a snuggling bear hug. “So cute. I could just eat you up.” And then he sunk his teeth into Akira’s neck and ripped a huge chunk out. He ate and ate as Akira screamed and sobbed. He eventually woke up, shaking with tears running down his face. Akechi still holding him and rocking him back and forth, kissing his neck soothingly. Akira whined and just let him, unsure if it was even real. 

All in all, his high lasted about twelve hours, having him on edge and tripping through the night. He would have wondered if Akechi’s neighbors could hear what was happening, but that was a dumb thought. Akechi had the whole floor of his building to himself and he must have taken other, extra precautions, seeing that he murdered people what seemed to be more than once. Akechi had timed both doses of the drug perfectly, as Akira started to come down from his high just as he was getting ready for work. He stepped over looking clean as ever, if not a little exhausted, but he had a coffee pot brewing so he’d be all right most likely. Akira could smell it. Or was that just his cologne?

Opposite from the fresh-faced detective, Akira was a wreck. He was drained and messy, dried blood and scrapes all over his limbs from his manic delusions. He’d scratched himself until he broke skin and way after, he’d tripped over and bumped into this, and he’d cut himself on his friend, the knife. He wasn’t exactly in shape to go out.

“No more fun for now. I have to go to work unfortunately, but lucky for you there are no classes today at least. We’ll have to have a talk about school later, but I think you should rest up here today. You look rather unwell.” Akechi seemed like his normal, delightful self. It had all been an act, his entire TV persona, the whole time. Akire was just laying spread eagle on the kitchen floor, staring up blankly at him. “Don’t worry about your cat. I borrowed your phone so I should be able to unlock your dorm room with it. I’ll stop by and feed him before and after work.” He smiled when Akira nodded.

Akechi helped him to his feet and supported him as he led him to the bedroom. “So I’m going to be gone all day, but I need to make sure you don’t leave and no one sees you. You understand right?” Uh-oh. There was a big trunk sitting open against the wall. Akira knew where this was going and frowned. He elected to just get in on his own and saw Akechi smile. “Good. I knew you’d understand. Now, if you promise not to make a single sound, even if you hear someone, I won’t gag you.”

“I won’t do anything,” Akira said hoarsely. Akechi pushed him down gently until he was tetrised into the trunk.

“If you break your promise, someone will die. If you think someone is coming to save you, if you try to call out for help, I will kill whoever knows you’re here and it will be all your fault. Fair?” Akechi warned like a parent. Akira nodded obediently. “Promise?” He asked with his hand on the lid.

“Promise.”

“You’re so good. Do you want more of the drug I gave you? It will be awfully boring all day but that might make the time fly right by.” Akira shook his head at the offer. “Do you have to pee?” Akira shook his head again. “Alright, then I’m off. I love you, Akira.”

“I love you too.”

Akechi shut the trunk and Akira was enveloped in darkness. He could hear a lock clicking into place and he tried to relax. His chest hurt from lack of sleep. He thought he’d at least eaten recently because he wasn’t hungry, but he couldn’t be sure. What would he have even eaten? Maybe he didn’t want to know. He’d be okay just like this. He would take a nap and when he woke up, this all would have just been a hallucination; all of it. He’d be at home in his dorm and would just make an appointment with a therapist to get some help. This whole thing was a little too far, even for him. He’d avoided admitting it was a problem that he saw a person for so long since it was someone whom he loved, but this was a little too extreme.

Only when he woke up, he was still in the trunk. There went that theory. He had no idea what time it was, but his muscles ached and his head was pounding. He felt alert and sharp. The drug seemingly made it all the way out of his blood and he knew this was definitely real now. Fuck. Things had really taken a nosedive that was for sure. Maybe it was just a little bump in the road and things would return to normal soon. Akechi had seemed calmer than the night before, so he could totally be reasoned with. This wasn’t going to be a problem.

By the time Akechi came back, Akira was losing his mind with boredom and his limbs were on fire, but he tried to endure it the best that he could. He wanted to talk to Fakechi but this was the one time he was left alone with his own thoughts. Maybe his muse was mad at him, but why? He heard the bedroom door open and he perked up attentively. The trunk shifted under the weight of a person sitting on top of it. Akira bit his lip, keeping his promise to not make a peep.

“Hey, it’s me,” Akechi announced.

“Welcome home, honey,” Akira said softly.

“Thank you,” he chuckled warmly. “I’m sorry I’m late, but my coworker wanted to go out for drinks. Though I did manage to prevent them from coming over. They tried to invite themselves, but I thought that after you’ve been waiting so patiently, that I didn’t want you to have to suffer all of that.”

“Thanks…” Akira said, wishing Akechi would free him soon.

“I have a question, Akira,” he said, idly tapping his foot against the side of the chest, making Akira’s heart pound in time with the loud noise.

“Yeah?”

“Yesterday you said someone put their hands on you on the train. Was that a lie? I was so specific that it didn’t sound like it,” Akechi asked.

“No, it was true,” Akira admitted.

“Did you see who did it?”

“No.”

“Ah. I’m sorry then. That’s hardly appropriate behavior. You must have been scared.”

“Yeah…” Akira muttered, wondering why Akechi cared. That must have meant something, right? He wouldn’t be asking if he was just going to kill him. He must have still wanted to be with him.

“I’ll try to protect you better from now on.” There it was. Akechi wasn’t going to let anyone else hurt him. He loved him. “You’re very attractive, so I don’t doubt it could happen again, unfortunately. Next time, make sure to try to get a look so that I can find the perpetrator.”

“Uh…alright,” Akira said, unsure why Akechi would bring up a next time actually. He thought he was being enslaved forever or something due to the box situation. He didn’t expect to be going out on the train ever again anyway. But he liked thinking about Akechi defending him. What would he do to someone that hurt Akira, just arrest them or take justice into his own hands? Akira felt like this was his chance to fix things. He smiled to himself. He’d hold on to hope for things to go back to normal.

At that, Akechi got up and unlocked the trunk, opening it so that light and that sweet coffee scent flooded in. He saw Akira’s smile and grinned back. “Hello. How are you doing?”

“I’m sore,” Akira replied truthfully and sat up with a wince. He added in, “I’m happy to see you.”

“Gosh, Akira. You really are perfect. I’m glad I didn’t kill you,” Akechi said, clearly not seeing anything wrong with his statement. “If you’d like to get cleaned up, I’ll wash your clothes and make dinner for us. –Oh. I never got to ask you if you liked the breakfast I made for you yesterday.”

“It was really good.”

“Great! Thank you. I’ll try my best tonight. Now, give me your clothes and take a bath. You look like shit,” Akechi ordered with a soft grin.

Akira needed help to stand up, as his legs were not up to full power at the moment. He wriggled out of his blood soaked schoolgirl outfit and Akechi casually locked him in his luxurious, but windowless bathroom. He really could tell the current status of their relationship but decided to just go along with things until he figured out what was going on. Fakechi helped him bathe, cleaning him gently with the warm water and massaging shampoo in his hair, careful around the welt on the side of his skull and all the scrapes he’d accrued. He started to relax and his aches melted away and he felt much better by the time he was finished. He waited on the toilet seat in a fluffy black towel until Akechi came to retrieve him. The smell coming from the kitchen was heavenly. He saw Akechi’s gorgeous face and finally felt at east. Everything was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are really heating up! Prepare for a whole pile of drama.
> 
> If I'm missing any glaringly obvious tags, please let me know.
> 
> See you soon!


	14. Chapter 14

As the two of them sat and ate, Akira stayed relatively silent. He had noticed when he sat down that the apartment was as clean as usual and there were zero signs of there having ever been anything abnormal going on, like a dead body or a crazy drug trip. Akechi had gotten Akira back into his schoolgirl outfit and it was warm from the dryer and free of stains. If it weren’t for the physical marks on his body from harming himself while high, he wouldn’t have even believed it happened at all, as all other evidence had been scrubbed away. He wasn’t even sure he’d seen a corpse anymore. Maybe it had all been the drugs and his timeline of events was just messed up. He wasn’t sure what to think at that point.

That being said, Akechi’s cooking was delicious at least, so he could stay as quiet as he liked as he shoveled the much-needed meal into his mouth. He only paused when Akechi snickered at him.

“Do you like it?” Akechi wondered innocently.

“Mhm. Thank you for cooking for me.”

“Oh of course. I had to dispose of that awful man’s body somehow,” Akechi threw out casually and inserted a big bite of food into his mouth for emphasis. “Mmm~”

Akira took a deep breath and set his fork down. He was going to be sick. He was going to puke. Akechi killing people was one thing, but it was another thing entirely to cook and eat the people he killed and feed them to unsuspecting boyfriends. He started to hyperventilate as he stared at his food, frantically inspecting it for proof that it was once people. He morbidly needed confirmation of the sin that had just transpired. He looked up like a frightened deer when Akechi laughed again, the color having completely drained from his face.

“Oh my god. The look on your face is priceless,” Akechi laughed, holding his hand up to his mouth politely. “Sorry. Sorry. That was cruel of me. I didn’t feed you human meat. I’m sorry, I just saw the chance to prank you and I couldn’t resist. Your reaction was so funny.”

Akira was shaking and just nervously cracked a smile, letting out a forced laugh as he tried to push his panic back down where it came from. He looked back at his food, felt dizzy, and ascertained that he wasn’t hungry anymore. He decided to ask a burning question finally. If he was done eating, at least he could set some records straight while they sat together. “What did you do with it then? The body that is…”

“Ah. Interesting you should ask that. I normally wouldn’t want to give you too many insider secrets, but if you’re going to be on my team, I will tell you. All you have to do is agree to help,” Akechi explained between chewing bites of his dinner. He wasn’t so squeamish that talks of cannibalism would spoil his appetite.

“Okay…I can help,” Akira agreed, to what he was unsure.

“The body is on ice in my panic room,” Akechi said simply. “Hardly a long term solution, but it keeps it from smelling until I –well, until we dispose of it properly. It’ll be easier with two people, so I’m glad you’re here.”

Akira just nodded for lack of a response. He didn’t want to dispose of a body, but it was his fault someone died, and he didn’t want Akechi to go to jail, so he didn’t really have another option. He’d just have to suck it up like everything else. Akechi had said, maybe, that Akira got everything he wanted, but he didn’t want much. He tended to just go with the flow. This situation was no different. He figured he’d have a positive result if he just went along with things. This seemed opposite to the rebellious bad boy, Joker that he fancied as his avatar, but really the ability to change and adapt wasn’t a bad thing. He thought Joker would have been proud of him for hanging in so well despite the multitude of horrors he was in the middle of. There was a time and a place for rebellion.

Once they had cleaned up after dinner, Akechi brought Akira to his “panic room.” It was a reinforced room behind his bookcase. He even had to pull out a specific book to open it, like in a cartoon mystery. Akechi did like that sort of thing, so it made sense he’d conduct his villainy in such a manner. Inside was what appeared to be an organized assortment of weapons and tools, cabinets for important documents, a medical table, a regular table, a clothing rack, an industrial sink, and a dead body stuffed into the sink, surrounded by thawing ice-packs, and spilling blood down the drain in what was earlier probably a heavy flow, but now was just a slow, methodical drip.

“Sounds like he’s almost out, “ Akechi observed as Akira was looking around. “I tried to drain some of the blood the best that I could, given the circumstances. Hopefully that makes things easier.” He walked over to the clothing rack and grabbed a rubber apron, rain boots, and long black gloves, along with a spare set for Akira. He handed them over with a grin. “I see you’re confused. I have a good place to bury the body that isn’t likely to be disturbed. But we can’t exactly bring this guy downstairs as he is, so we’re going to have to condense him into more manageable sized pieces.” That wasn’t really what Akira had been confused about, but good to know. Really.

Akira stuck his feet with his no longer new knee high socks into the boots and sighed. This was so gross, but he’d do it because he had to. He didn’t like going to school but went anyway; this was the same as that right?

“Hm.” Akechi surveyed the body as he got his own protection on. “I think the best plan would be to bring the pieces down in my trunk.”

Akira froze as he was tying the apron on. “Is that typical?”

“Hm? Oh yes. It’s easy to move that way. Even easier with two people.” Akechi replied. Akira was going to be sick all over again. He had spent the whole day in a corpse box. “I haven’t ever had assistance, so I normally have to solve some pretty complex disposal dilemmas. You’re really a big help.” Akechi’s sunny disposition was not tonally appropriate for the severity of the situation, but at least it would be over and done with sooner if he kept them on task.

“Do you…do this often?” Akira hazarded to ask as he pulled up the long gloves.

“Honestly, I haven’t in a while. You just made me so angry that I slipped.” Akechi’s answer confirmed Akira’s fears that it was definitely his fault. “It’s okay though. This guy was really bad.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes. He sold drugs to children and a bunch of other terrible things that would probably make you want to kill him all over again. He was just always getting his cases thrown out on technicalities. I should have done this sooner actually,” Akechi clarified thoughtfully as he dragged the body towards the table. His justification seemed legit at least. At least the man wasn’t entirely innocent.

“Would you help with this?” He had Akira grab the legs and they placed him on the medical table. Akechi honestly seemed like he could have done it on his own. He was pretty strong. It was all that bouldering, his favorite hobby sport according to his fan page. “Try not to make a giant mess, but if you do, I have a good drain so it’ll all get cleaned up later.”

Akechi produced two instruments that Akira didn’t recognize, however they would properly be referred to as “bone saws.” He showed Akira approximately where he wanted the dismemberment to occur. They’d strip the guy; saving his clothing to be burned at a later time, and each take a side to start working on. Akechi seemed confident that leaving the bones to decay where he planned on dumping them wouldn’t trace back to him. He said if that weren’t the case he would have come up with a less slap-dash solution. They would wrap up every part in plastic, stick the pile of parts in bags, and then put those in the trunk, transport them to the body dump site, and then dig a hole, undo all the wrappings, and bury the parts to decompose, taking their trash with them. It seemed straight forward and also like it would take all damn night.

When it came to actually dismembering the bodies, Akira had been fairly neutral until then, but found himself seriously disgusted as he tried to bone saw the dude’s arm off at the elbow. He shook and looked away as he held the stuff hand and felt his took cutting inefficiently through the flesh. It wasn’t super easy but it was super gross. He pretty much blacked out the rest of the activity but Akechi commented that he seemed like he’d had fun. That didn’t seem like the correct description.

Freshly horrified and sorer than when they started, Akira helped Akechi pack up their meat trunk and cart is downstairs to fit it into Akechi’s car. Akira had to wait with the body parts pile while Akechi brought the car around. He vaguely imagined Akechi had just set him up to be arrested and framed for murder while he was cross-dressing. Luckily that didn’t happen and they took a nice night drive to the countryside instead.

The pair carried their package deep into the wooded area they’d gone to and Akechi tossed a shovel to Akira so that they could both dig. Akira was absolutely freezing, but kept his complaints to himself. Eventually his body would not be ignored any longer and just ceased to do what it was told and Akira lost consciousness, collapsing right into the hole he was digging.

When Akira came to he was in the nightmare corpse box again. He thought for a moment that Akechi had buried him alive, but he could smell the fresh coffee scent and decided to stop panicking, and to just wait patiently. He felt well rested and was wrapped in a soft blanket, nothing like the last time. He deduced that Akechi probably took him home after he fainted and he probably had slept in bed with him. He was only back in box jail because Akechi had work and couldn’t trust him. They had never had the chance to talk after all. Now that the dead elephant in the room was dealt with, they could address where Akira stood and he could probably make a solid argument to not have to live in the trunk anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fun date: bury a dismembered corpse with your boyfriend!
> 
> Will Akira ever get to wear pants again? Will Akechi lose his patience and kill Akira? Stay tuned to find out next time!


	15. Chapter 15

Eventually, Akechi came home and took a seat on his trunk for their confessional style chat that he seemed to like. Maybe he found it easier to not have to look at Akira’s face and this way it was easier to be candid. That would have been all right if it wasn’t prolonging Akira’s suffering needlessly. Maybe that was the point, to casually watch Akira suffer. Akechi did seem to like hurting him for the sake of comforting him after. That was on of Akira’s favorite tropes, so maybe this was a fitting situation to have ended up in. He wasn’t sure he liked the box in real life applications, but he’d happily accept Akechi’s hugs if he was giving any out afterwards.

“Honey, I’m home,” Akechi said with a snicker.

“Welcome home, honey,” Akira replied. If this was their “thing” now he wouldn’t complain.

“I’m sorry I had to lock you up again. I think we should have a talk about this.” Ah, so Akechi was also willing to communicate. Things were already going better. “I came home on my lunch break so that you wouldn’t have to wait all day.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh course. Are you feeling any better from last night? You really had me worried. It was far too cold for what you were wearing. We’ll definitely have to find you some warmer clothes.” Akechi sounded like a concerned pet owner. Akira had warm clothes in his dorm, so was he planning on not letting him go back to school even just to get them? Well, he could give up his education probably. Akechi was rich, so maybe it didn’t matter. He’d take care of him.

“Yes. Thank you for the blanket. Sorry I worried you,” Akira responded, cuddling up a little more as he waited to be let out.

“Have you been behaving while I was gone?” Akechi asked.

“Mhm.”

“Do you want me to let you out?”

“Yes please.” Akira actually had to pee. So. Yes.

“Okay, but after we talk, you might have to go back in,” Akechi warned. When he got confirmation that Akira would obey him, he got off the box and unlocked it for him. Akira was snuggled up in there like a soft burrito cat and it made Akechi smile warmly. He helped him out and had him sit on the bed so that he could gently massage his legs. “I’m very curious to know what you’ve been thinking the past few days, Akira.”

The massage was welcomed and nice and Akira felt like he was melting in Akechi’s hands. “I’ve wanted to talk to you.”

“Is that all? What is your opinion of me?” Akechi wondered.

“I love you. I wasn’t going to come to any conclusions without hearing your side first. I guess I didn’t really know you as a person, just as a public figure, but the way I see it, it seems that maybe no one really knows the real you. I want to understand who that person is,” Akira explained quietly; not one for giving speeches, but he tried.

“I doubt you’d say you loved me anymore if you did,” Akechi replied, “I’d rather not have to kill you, so I really wish what you are saying is true.”

“Well, you’ve already done your worst – “

“Not particularly,” Akechi added. “I was holding back. Do you want to hear about what I wanted to do to you?” He didn’t really want that, but nodded anyway. He did say he’d try to understand. “I thought about cutting off a leg so you could never run. I wanted to leave you in the box for days until you were nothing but a husk. I almost gave you too much of that drug and would have let you kill yourself or made you go crazy so that you’d admit to the murder that I committed. I wanted to make you kill you friends or actually feed you human meat, not just joke about it. I’ve been planning to make you suffer from the moment we met. This was all just a game.”

Akira stayed silent and listened, finding the whole thing rather gruesome, but he did have one takeaway to add. “But you didn’t do any of those things.”

“No, I didn’t. Do you want to know why?” Akechi watched him carefully like he was looking for something important. Akira nodded for him to go on. “I held back at first because I wanted to draw it out and then it was because I found out you were Joker, someone who spent a long time obsessing over me. I thought ‘Surely if I could tell anyone about the real me, it would be you.’ Then when you saw what I had done, I thought it was over, but the way you looked at me…Akira you were smiling.”

Akira’s eyes grew wide and he stared at Akechi, trying to remember back to when he was the body. It seemed so long ago, but really only a few days had passed. He had seen Fakechi smiling at him. But really, he was the one that was smiling wasn’t he? How much else had slipped out? “Yes…”

“So again I resisted killing you,” Akechi continued. “You’ve gotten quite far and continuously exceeded my expectations. When you say you want to understand me, part of me believes you. You give me some sort of weird hope that I won’t have to be alone forever. I thought that fate brought you to me as my next victim, but I’m giving you a chance here that no one else would have ever gotten, to prove fate wrong and convince me not to kill you.”

Akira stayed silent and looked at the hands on his leg obsessively. There was no blood under Akechi’s perfectly groomed nails, not a scrape on his smooth skin; a sharp contrast to Akira’s bruised legs. Somehow, Akechi still glowed like an angel despite all that he’d done. “I just think…” Akira started carefully and quietly, thankful that Akechi was being patient enough to let him think. “I think that no one has shown you compassion in a long time, maybe even never. Something is telling me (aka: the voices in his head) that what you’ve done is something I can understand.”

“I won’t change or stop. Ever. This is who I am,” Akechi clarified. “I will hurt you again and maybe even give in one day and kill you anyway. Don’t you want a normal life?”

“I do,” Akira answered honestly. “But school and a job or whatever else doesn’t compare to you. You gave my life meaning.”

Akechi laughed in disbelief. “I don’t understand you. How could you love someone like me? A monster?” He scoffed when Akira shrugged. “Fine. I’ll give you a chance. No phone just yet, but I won’t make you stay locked in the trunk. I’ll give you bedroom and bathroom access. If you do anything, the consequences will be severe. Do you understand?” He squinted when Akira nodded. “Please don’t disappoint me. I really want to believe you.”

Akechi left after giving Akira a goodbye kiss. He seemed pleased that Akira eagerly returned his affections. He said he had been taking care of Morgana and wrote an excuse to the school to explain Akira’s absences. It would work being that it was on government letterhead. He said he was a vital assistant in a classified investigation. Akechi locked him in the bedroom, but gave him some water and a couple snacks. So things had definitely improved and Akira smiled to himself at his small victory. He spent the rest of the day lying on Akechi’s bed, reading a book he’d found on the side table.

“You’re doing great,” Fakechi said, lying next to him under the thick covers. “I knew you could pull through. You’re so strong.”

“It’s all thanks to you,” Akira smiled to him.

“Things are going to work out. This was just a little hiccup. Fights happen to new couples,” the specter explained and Akira nodded in agreement.

When Akechi came home, he took off his coat and crawled into bed to pull Akira close, replacing Fakechi. He kissed the side of his head and rubbed his arms and back affectionately, tangling their legs together. “Were you good while I was gone?”

“Mhm,” Akira cooed and hugged him back, shivering from the excited contact.

Akechi yawned and buried his face in Akira’s neck. “I’ve drank about a hundred cups of coffee today. You’ve kept me up two days straight. You know that right? I’m totally exhausted.”

“Sorry,” Akira muttered. Akechi wouldn’t be tired if he’d have just killed Akira and been done with it. So he’d take the blame.

“I forgive you. I just think we should go to bed after dinner. I wanted to get you a change of clothing, but I suppose you will just have to remain as a girl for one more day,” Akechi said quietly, gripping him so tightly. He was so warm.

“I don’t mind.”

“Unless you’d rather just be naked?” he tossed out as a joke. Akira shrugged and he laughed lightly. “I should take advantage while I have you like this. You came over like this for me anyway, didn’t you?” Akechi glanced up to see Akira nod in confirmation. “I’m miffed that yakuza had a go at you first, but I guess I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

After the dishes were put away after dinner, Akechi practically tackled Akira into bed. He was gentle and treated Akira like a prince, lavishing him in kisses and feeling absolutely everywhere as if he were trying to memorize every angle. The comparably mild encounter was probably for Akira’s sake, as he was weak from all the recent excitement. He welcomed the change in pace and the positive attention. For a night they had started over and it was as if nothing had ever happened. This was the Akechi that Akira loved and worshiped and he never wanted to let him go. He finally had a good night sleep that night, tangled together with his boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey they made up! The good ship akeshu sails again. We're halfway through the fic and also about halfway through this arc. Stay tuned to find out the fate of our favorite couple. 
> 
> The next half is depressing as all hell. I think I should apologize that it ended up not being the fun gay romp I thought it would be, but I'd like to thank everyone who has stuck with it. All your comments have been so nice and supportive. I wish I could kiss each and every one of you square on the lips.


	16. Chapter 16

Within a short period of time, Akira regained many of his freedoms. Akechi took him to get some of his clothing and his cat, he returned his cellphone, and let him attend classes again. His phone was devoid of messages. It seemed that Akechi told his friends that “his boyfriend” had been inspired to take him on a mountain getaway so he would be out of contact until they returned; a smooth lie. Akechi warned him to stick to the story and Akira had no problem agreeing to that.

“As for your…relationship with your comrades,” Akechi started, “While it doesn’t make me happy, it would be a better idea to just allow you to continue your dirty, loose behavior. I wouldn’t want anyone to think I was overly controlling.” He rolled his eyes. “Just don’t get any diseases.”

Akira smiled. Score. He had been making Akechi his coffee in the mornings and that had definitely contributed to his recent good moods. Sex and coffee could fix anything. His body was almost entirely healed of his most shocking wounds, so he was pretty much fit to rejoin society. He was generally having a much more pleasant time and was more than elated they had worked out their problems. Everything was coming up Akira.

“I’ll see you tonight. Don’t stay out too late, you have homework to catch up on,” Akechi said in a very Dad voice. They embraced and kissed before heading off to their own destinations for the day.

After class, Akira went to see Makoto at the public library. She had said she wanted to catch up with Akira after his trip. When they sat down together, she got right down to business.

“I’ve missed you, Akira.” She slid him a note across the table. 

When Akira carefully unfolded it, it read: “Are you safe to speak? Nod once if you’re being watched or recorded.” Akira furrowed his brows and shook his head. He wasn’t. 

Makoto sighed in relief. “Thank god. We’ve all been so worried.” Uh-oh. “My sister is a prosecutor; she works in the same building as Goro Akechi. Your text message seemed normal until my sis was talking with me about him working on some case. He hadn’t been on TV lately so maybe I would never have caught on, but she said he was at work every day recently. He couldn’t have been in the mountains with you.”

Akira bit his lip and just listened. His friends were too proactive. What if they found out about Akechi’s secret hobby? What would they think?

“I spoke to Futaba, because I thought maybe you were in trouble and she say you last, but then even more stuff didn’t add up. She traced your phone and it was at the police station when we looked. Then we traced Akechi’s phone and they were both pinging the same towers. So you were either with him and my sister never saw you somehow, or he had your phone and you were missing. We couldn’t file a report since that would have tipped him off that we knew something was up. Akira, just tell me, did he hurt you? Are you still in danger?”

Akira stared at her. Akechi would kill her if he had heard all that. He didn’t want that to happen at all. Makoto was so smart though. Lying wouldn’t work. She’d know. She’d snoop herself to death if she could. Dammit. He’d just have to reassure her as best and vaguely as he could and hope she’d understand and not ask for him to admit he helped Akechi bury the body of a guy he killed. “I’m fine. I promise.”

“So what happened? We’ve all been worried sick.”

“It’s Akechi’s business. It wouldn’t be right to gossip.” Maybe Makoto would respect their privacy at least. “Something bad happened, but we worked it out. He just didn’t want anyone to be concerned. I guess that didn’t work out. But I swear it’s fine now.” Akira offered a reassuring smile.

Makoto still seemed skeptical. “Akira, if it’s not safe to talk, just give me a signal.” But Akira just shook his head. She signed and resigned to getting no solid explanation. She didn’t feel at east at all. “I know we’ve both been busy lately, but I just want you to know, I’ll always care about you. If anything else comes up, you can tell me.” Akira nodded, agreeing to that at least.

They spent the rest of the visit on lighter topics, talking about their studies and catching up. It was nice and they parted ways with a tight hug. Makoto reiterated her concern and support, and Akira agreed to try to be a little better at keeping in contact so as not to worry her again. She said he should go talk to Futaba too, so he decided to do just that. Only he never made it back to Yongen-Jaya.

Bullied into the back of a limousine, Akira found himself with a bag over his head and his hands tied with duct tape in his lap. He would have panicked, but he was getting use to this sort of treatment and just sat quietly for the drive. Akechi had warned him he would go after him. Hopefully Makoto was safe at least.

When he arrived at his destination, he was brought somewhere in an elevator. When whoever was pushing him stopped ushering him along, the bag was ripped from his head and he was shoved to the floor. He crumbled onto a soft carpet in front of a fancy desk placed in front of huge, luxurious windows that overlooked the whole city. His captors bowed out the pair of extravagant double doors and left him with who was probably the person that summoned him. It wasn’t Akechi. What exactly was happening?

“Do you know who I am?” the man asked. He was sitting at the desk and Akira could see an expensive suit and a shiny, bald head. He did know. It was Masayoshi Shido, failed prime minister candidate from their last election cycle. His political career had wavered but he was still a highly respected, not to mention wealthy, man. Akira nodded. “Ah good. That saves a bit of time. I’m sure you’re wondering why you are here. Well, you’ve put me in a rather unfortunately position and I am holding you hostage. Simple right?” Akira squinted and looked down. What the hell had he done to Shido? “Oh, you look confused. Maybe you’re less important than I thought. Pity. You’re going to die soon and barely know why. Boy do I feel just awful for you.” What the hell was he talking about?

Shido stood up and walked around the desk to kneel in front of Akira and grabbed his chin roughly, forcing him to look at him. “You look so familiar.”

Akira narrowed his eyes. Shido also dredged up some sort of buried memory. He just couldn’t place it. He scowled as the man tightened his grip at his disrespectful look. He noticed he was shaking in front of the businessman. Was he scared? Well, he did say he was going to kill him. That was something to be scared about.

“This is a bog waste of my time, but I guess I could fill you in while I have you. It doesn’t matter but I’d like you to just accept your fate and blame the real person at fault, being that I’m just tidying up a mess they made. Really, you should blame that bastard Akechi for all of this.” Shido smirked when he saw Akira’s eyes get wide and his pupils dilate. “Yes. This is all his doing. I hope you don’t mind being my pawn. I’d rather he come to me than have to chase him down. You were far less slippery than that dumpster snake.”

“Akechi hasn’t done anything.”

“Oh please. You know at least a fraction of what he’s done. I know that because I’ve known about his childish schemes for quite some time. I’ve just been waiting for him to slip up. And here you are; one very big slipup.” Shido let his face go and stood up to lean against his desk casually, looking down on Akira, appraising him. “I’ll make you an offer, kid. If you help me out here, I won’t kill you after this.”

“He definitely will,” Fakechi advised, crouched next to him supportively. Akira frowned and nodded, accidentally agreeing to Shido as he agreed with his muse.

“Oh you aren’t as stupid as you look. Of course I don’t believe you at all, but I have some insurance to keep you cooperating.” Shido leaned over to grab something from inside his desk drawer and knelt back down to his guest. He tugged down Akira’s turtleneck and strapped what appeared to be a collar around his neck, locking it into place with a satisfied smirk. He pulled the fabric back up to politely conceal it and pet Akira’s head mockingly, earning another dirty look.

“If you don’t piss me off, we’ll get along just fine. But, defy me –“ Shido took out his phone and prssed something that sent electricity surging through Akira. It came from the collar. A scream was ripped from his throat and he collapsed to the floor after the short, but powerful shock. The man hovering over him stroked his hair again roughly, pressing his face into the carpet. “But that won’t be necessary, since you surely know your place.”

Akira grit his teeth and stayed down, heart racing as he tried to think of how to get out of the mess he was in.

“I remember this guy now,” Fakechi said with a grimace. “He’s the one you punched.” Ah. So his past had come back to haunt him in a truly unexpected way. But how was Akechi involved? His uncharacteristically aggressive behavior that time had been the basis for his portrayal of Joker. Maybe he’d unknowingly found a connection he wasn’t aware of when he combined the two things. 

Akira would have loved to hit Shido again at that moment, but at the very least he didn’t seem to recall the first time it happened to hold it against him. Akira would just have to figure out what was going on and save Akechi somehow before his boyfriend walked into his own murder. He could do all of that, right?

Shido let go of Akira with another decisive push on his head, grabbing something off his desk and setting it down in front of his face. “If you don’t already recognize this, it’s a picture of Akechi and what appears to be a hooker, that would be you, burying a dismembered corpse on property that I own.” Oh. That answered some questions. “He’s been pulling this shit for years; trying to build a case to frame me. Only he’s never had an accomplice before. Since he didn’t get rid of you immediately, you must mean something to him. You better start praying he actually does care, since you’re mine until he’s dead.” Shido sighed, burdened with juggling so many irons in the fire. “Though I really don’t care for free loaders. Keeping you alive is going to be expensive.” Suddenly he seemed to have an excellent idea, or this was always his plan. “Say. You should earn your keep. Instead of making me babysit you, you could work off your stay here and then you won’t owe me anything and will be freed once I’ve accomplished my goals. What do you say?”

Akira focused ahead of himself. He felt like this wasn’t really a question. Shido was the one that owed him an apology at the very least, but that clearly wasn’t the way he saw it. “Yes?”

“Oh good. Seeing that you’re Goro’s whore, you won’t mind entertaining some of my clients then, I’m assuming? It’s very easy. You won’t have to do much at all.” Shido was trying to sell him on a task that was clearly sinister in nature. He obviously wanted Akira to accept so that if anyone protested later, he would say it was arranged between the two of them and that Akira had done everything willingly. How sly and underhanded.

“Fuck you,” Akira said daringly without really thinking. He cursed himself in his head. Why did it feel as though sometimes he was actively against his own best interests? Sometimes he couldn’t help being brash and taking the hard way for seemingly no reason. The result was going to be the same anyway it seemed, so at least he got that one last lick in.

Shido did not appreciate being disrespected. He kicked poor, defenseless Akira in the stomach, making him grunt and cough, watching him curl in on himself. “Come on. Don’t make this hard on yourself. You don’t want to end up in my debt, kid. I’m giving you a deal here.” Akira took a long moment and finally just tried to sit up and looked at Shido darkly. “Is that a yes?”

“Fine,” Akira said venomously. He didn’t have a choice.

“Oh good. Welcome to the team.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as things started to settle down they heat back up again! Hope you guys enjoyed Makoto's cameo. I wish I'd written more confidant interactions but this would have ended up being like 100k instead and I just didn't have that sort of time LOL
> 
>  
> 
> ****---Hey HUGE WARNING: The next 2 chapters are really content warning heavy. I might miss some tags when I update them. But if you've made it to here, the next few are the worst yet but by far not the worst to come. So if you've been iffy but trucking along anyway, you might want to stop here. Otherwise I hope you like the terrible terrible thing I have written for you.---***
> 
>  
> 
> I'm almost done typing the whole thing up but I paused a bit so that I could change the ending and make it way better.
> 
> Thank you all for the support! Stay tuned!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: This chapter is super dicey. There's a ton of non-con so if you aren't into that you can skip it and still enjoy the rest of the fic.

If someone were to ask, Akira would say he definitely would never have expected that writing fanfiction would lead to him becoming livestock for a wealthy politician. He definitely didn’t see that one coming. It seemed as though the stars were not in Akira’s favor at all and that his recent string of bad luck had just been leading up to this climax.

After his one sided conversation, Shido had men that looked more like gangsters than associates take him away. He was led down a series of hallways that felt like a maze until they reached an unmarked room to push him into. It would shock many people if the news were to report a story about a large company getting away with having secret sex rooms where they would use people against their wills. But, true to form, truth was really stranger than fiction, and Shido’s building really had what appeared to be an actual sex dungeon.

The interior of the room had a rather pleasant corporate aesthetic: plush sofas, art on the walls, a huge TV. Other details definitely gave away the room’s true purpose though. There were no windows. He saw hooks bolted into the walls, ceiling, and floor; anywhere anyone might want one. There were cabinets, some with glass doors so that he could see the equipment available for use. What was scarier was the storage that he couldn’t see into. There were also devices that seemed to have various purposes, such as restraint or torture. 

Akira now fully understood what sort of entertainment Shido was alluding to. He could have guessed, but this confirmed it. The room was clean so he wondered who else had been put to work in it. Were they still alive? Was Shido’s company still holding them? He was sure he should just worry about himself, but he couldn’t help but think that maybe he needed to help these people who he wasn’t even sure existed. Though they definitely must have.

One of the guards shoved a bag into his hands and told him to change into it. He had to listen but was a bit cranky they both decided to watch him strip. Well that was to be expected, wasn’t it?

Whoever decided this uniform, or lack thereof, had picked out some of the most complicated strappy lingerie Akira had ever seen. He supposed that people with money didn’t want cheap whores so they had shelled out to have Akira looking like a fantasy vixen. Along with his new slinky getup, he found cat ears and a butt plug tail in the bag. He glanced up at the men watching him.

“Put it on,” one ordered with a shrug, as if to say he wasn’t told the plans either, but also didn’t give a shit.

Akira sighed. Being a sex slave wasn’t on his ambitions list, but it wasn’t out of his skill set either at the very least. Shido could have put him to hard labor or cut off his hands or something. He could definitely survive this challenge. The question was could he also prevent Akechi’s death? He sure hoped so.

He looked directly at the two men watching him as he reached back to prepare himself. Instead of being embarrassed, he would be cold and confident. That was how to remain in control. He equipped his new tail and stuck on the ears, sneering. “Happy?”

“Oh very. One last thing, little kitty,” the man who hadn’t spoken yet said, holding a hand out to Akira. There was a pill sitting on his palm. “Eat up.”

“What is it?” Akira wondered as he took it and swallowed it with little hesitation, in for a penny, in for a pound. He decided to just roll with the punches.

“Doesn’t matter, does it?” The man sniggered and plucked the glasses from his face. They both left, taking his old clothes and abandoning Akira to be locked in the sex room.

Akira found out pretty quickly what he’d been given. It seemed to be ecstasy. In his haze, he criticized Shido’s lack of creativity on that front, but also thanked god that it wasn’t whatever Akechi had given him before. The goal was obviously to get him feeling good and pliable, not to make him hurt himself and others.

He had no idea how much time passed as he serviced Shido’s employees and partners, as they kept giving him drugs and alcohol to keep him in a fog. Once he was in the thick of it, he completely forgot his objective as the excitement never stopped. He barely had time to breathe let alone scheme.

The first group that showed up turned the plug in his ass on to a low, teasing pulse and they fitted him with a cock ring that he found out was electrically charged. There was about five of them and their hands were all over him, pinching his nipples, squeezing his dick, slapping his ass until it was red and sore. He tried to be a good kitty and do as they wanted but it was an overwhelming amount of activity. He’d never actually entertained so many people at once. 

They all seemed more interested in watching him squirm too, so to finish they made him kneel with his mouth open and together the five of them jerked off into his mouth as if he were a toilet. They made sure to drown him in cum while also getting it all over his face, in his hair, down his back and chest, and then made him lick them all clean. The group left him aching in his own need with a buzzing tail and a locked cock ring.

Akira didn’t have to wait too long, as the next round had been waiting outside it seemed. Three men came in and they had their own objectives. They pulled Akira’s arms behind his back and bound them with a leather sleeve with lots of buckles that cut off his circulation and enveloped his hands. Next they had him sit up and kneel and chained his collar down to one of the hooks in the floor. 

They each took turns having him suck them off, forcing him to swallow every last drop, while the other two would ply with his body to test his concentration. They found the electric ring to be particularly interesting as they changed the intensity at random to make him scream and choke on whatever dick was in his mouth. They were apparently inspired by the shock ring to test other electrical instruments on him like claws. They left Akira collapsed on the floor in a pool of jizz. At least some of it was from his own release somehow.

Akira awoke from his blackout to two girls cleaning him off and he just laid his head back down and let it happen. They released his arms from the sleeve and tidied the room up like he was just another piece of furniture. Akira wondered if they were in a similar situation to him or if they were in on the whole thing as well. He felt bad for them if they were but he wasn’t able to help at that very moment. They came back over to him with a long length of red rope and tied him up into a visually pleasing arrangement. They had him on his back with fancy knots that attached to the floor, leaving him immobile and sensitive.

He figured out what was happening when the girls started arranging flowers around him and placing sushi and other food on top of him. The other things he’d experienced were just a pregame. One of them made him take a couple of shots of sake to keep him relaxed and tied a ring gag into his mouth, clearly in case someone at the dinner party they were setting up for wanted to use him.

It had been at least a few hours at this point, so Shido even graced his presence, watching the festivities from the couch; watching his colleagues torment his new furniture. During the course of the dinner, Akira was poked and prodded, funneled more alcohol and pills, and he just blissed out and went to his happy place while it all happened. He ended the night covered in food bits and various terrible liquids. Shido approached him as the girls untied him and were wiping his dirty, limp body off. He smiled down at him.

“I know I said I would free you, but will you be able to go back to your normal life once your prince comes for you, little kitty?”

Akira looked at him blearily, but managed to narrow his eyes in defiance.

“Oh. Here I thought you were broken already. Glad to know you’re having a good time. Anyway, I’m heading home for the night. I’d tell you to get some rest for tomorrow, but your day isn’t over just yet.” He laughed as he walked out.

Shortly after Shido left, the plague of activities continued. Akira stopped feeling anything after a while. He was bitten and kicked, stepped on relentlessly until he came just from the abuse. He was made to stay in painful and embarrassing positions, whipped, cut, and a couple men decided it would be funny to pee on him. When it was decided that he needed to eat, he was fed out of a cat dish and told he couldn’t use his hands.

Suffice it to say, Akira maybe couldn’t totally handle the situation. He had tried to just enjoy himself, he really did, but it was just too much. He endured what felt like days of it in a drugged up stupor. Not even Fakechi was there for him. He slept very little and felt abandoned and hopeless. Eventually, he forgot why he was there in the first place at all. All he knew was that he was Shido’s obedient kitty cat.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been in that room, but Shido started letting him entertain clients privately instead, saying he’d earned it. It wasn’t necessarily better, as the men would behave much worse when they thought that no one was watching, but at least that meant there were no more instances of multiple guys inserting themselves into him at once.

Shido came to his room one night with a mischievous smile and had his men tie Akira to a fucking machine and stuck a gag in his mouth and left him there to go home for the night. Akira didn’t even struggle. Shido was his owner and he was just a sex-addicted prop to be used however his master saw fit. If his writhing and pleasured sobs made Shido happy, then he would just have to endure it. He’d try to be good and hope for a reward when Shido returned. Good cats got rewards.

A handsome boy visited Akira that night, one with soft, black hair and red gloves. The boy didn’t untie him or let him rest, but just sat next to him and stroked his hair and kissed his tears away.

“Just hold on for a little bit longer,” he whispered. “I wish I could help you, but just hold on. This won’t be forever.” The boy sat with Akira all night until he passed out.

In the morning, or what appeared to be, the two guards let Akira down from his torture. They ignored his tears and removed all his accessories, forcing him back into his street clothes like they were dressing a lifeless doll. They dumped him on the floor and finally he was able to get some real sleep after what seemed like days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope someone enjoyed that? I guess?
> 
> I'm going to double post so those of you who didn't want to read that have something else to see also.
> 
> Stay tuned!


	18. Chapter 18

Akechi couldn’t find Akira. His phone was off. The boy detective sat at home, mildly freaking out. Akira had lied to him. He wasn’t in love with him, had just said all those things to save his own life. What a sack of shit. Clearly he had gone to the police to turn Akechi in. But then why was his phone off? Maybe he was already in witness protection. 

The police had no evidence of him killing anyone, only Akira’s word. Even if they dug up the body that Akira knew about, all the forensic evidence would point to Shido; that was the whole point. But Akira’s testimony that it wasn’t Shido’s doing would definitely cast enough doubt to ruin Akechi’s plans. Shit. After all that planning, he should never have allowed Akira to infect him with feelings. He fucked up. He was definitely going to jail and headed for death row. That was, unless he spoke to Shido before the police got to him. If they corroborated, they could both be saved before it even went to trial. They could even frame Akira for everything instead. Reverse sabotage. That little jerk would never see it coming.

Without the ability to check on the gravesite, Akechi tried to act casual and returned to work as if nothing happened. The worst thing he could do would be to act rashly while the heat was on him. They had nothing to stand on if he just didn’t commit any crimes or do anything strange. He tried to make an appointment with Shido, but that wouldn’t be for a few days due to his scheduling, so he would have to play it cool and sweat it out until then.

When the time came for his meeting, Akechi was made to sit in the waiting room like any commoner. It wasn’t like he was expecting the welcome mats to be rolled out for him, but he still found all the waiting rude, especially when they both needed to cooperate quickly, lest they both be found out as murderers.

Shido was behind his desk like a proper businessman, looking like than amused when his secretary let Akechi in. “Ah. Goro. You’re still alive?” he teased.

“Surprising, I know. I could tell you all about how I survived after you abandoned me, but I’m sure you could care less,” Akechi said with a polite, venomous smile.

“You would be correct. What urgent business is it that you have with me then? I cleared my schedule for this, so it better be good.” Shido was so nasty. Akechi wished more than anything he didn’t have to reveal his plans and cooperate with the devil himself just to save his own life, but Akira had fucked him over and he was going to behave like the cockroach that he was to save himself. He’d just hold out for a time when he could get his revenge on Shido and also now on Akira.

Before Akechi could explain his problem, Shido cut him off, as he loved to do. “By the way. I acquired a new toy. He’s around your age. Were you in the same class by any chance?” He slid a couple of polaroids across the desk. They were of Akira’s recent activities and were very embarrassing to even look at.

Akechi had to stifle his reaction in order to keep a straight face. Shido had Akira? So this wasn’t a police sting? It was all just a horrible, shitty coincidence? He’d had him for days too. Poor Akira. Akechi could have sighed in relief that he didn’t have to go toe to toe with his boyfriend, but now he had to somehow save him from Shido. This was complex suddenly. He shook his head and pretended to inspect the photos. “I have no idea who this is. Why?” This was going to be a game of chicken it seemed. One of them would have to play all their cards eventually.

“This is the kid that punched me a couple years ago.” He’d remembered that right before he had hooked Akira up to the sex machine to suffer the whole night as petty revenge. “I thought I’d dealt with him, but now he owes my company a debt. So I’m having him pay it off the only way a whore like him would know how,” Shido explained coldly. “Poor kid should have taken a lesson from you and kept his head down.”

Akechi chuckled lightly and set the photos down. He did remember Shido being assaulted, but had never known who had done it. Go Akira. “Yes, well I was very lucky. Perhaps once his debt is paid, I can help him get back on track in life.”

“Oh? Like what you see?” Shido said with a smirk.

“He’s rather good looking, don’t you think? Beauty is a real shame to waste,” Akechi stated. They were both just circling around each other like vultures, waiting for the other to slip.

“What did you come here to talk to me about?” Shido changed the topic.

“Uh…” Shit. He had no idea what to say now, since his reason had already fallen apart and he was left without a good excuse. “I…”

“Well?” Shido raised his eyebrow impatiently.

“I’m…having some money problems,” Akechi muttered, looking away in shame. What a bad lie.

“Oh?” Shido laughed callously. “Well well. So the second you have a bit of debt, you come crawling back to me like a dog with its hail between its legs? Oh how the mighty have fallen. Tell me, Goro, what was it you said to me again the last time we spoke?”

“I told you that next time I saw you, I’d rip your dick off and choke you to death with it…” Akechi muttered through grit teeth, cheeks red.

“Very immature. And now why would you say something like that?” Shido wondered facetiously, knowing the real answer.

Akechi knew what he wanted to hear. “Because I’m an out of control lunatic…”

“Yes and a murderer as well. I didn’t need a horrible little brat like you around, causing me more trouble than your worth. You should have just crawled into a hole somewhere and died, and yet here you are, not dead, begging me for money.” Shido stood up and walked around his desk to tower over Akechi. “I thought I told you to never let me see your face again.”

“Please…” Akechi averted his gaze humbly, pitifully. This was for Akira.

“If you’re so desperate, would you like to join my kitty cat? You sure have enough experience that it wouldn’t be an issue for you. Right?” Shido offered, smirking predatorily. That was a disturbing offer, but it was actually perfect. That way he could get Akira and run off.

“I could do that,” Akechi agreed.

“Shameless as ever.” He paused. “Oh I have an idea. You and my slave can compete; like a game. The most successful of you will get the thing they want, their debt erased, and the loser will stay here and work off both amounts. I only really need one of you right now, so all or nothing sounds like a good way to solve that issue.”

“Wh…” Akechi scowled. That was the opposite of escaping. Shido was manipulating him. He probably would kill the winner. No one ever got to just leave; Akechi knew that first hand. Did Shido know they knew each other and was just trying to force Akechi to admit his lie? What else did he know? Whatever was going on, he didn’t see much choice than to go along with it until he could figure out how to grab his boyfriend and run. “Yeah sure. I’ll win though. I understand your needs better than anyone after all.”

“Hm. So you’d be okay stepping on others to further your agenda?” Actually, Akechi just thought Shido wouldn’t try to kill him another time at this point; or so he hoped. “Well it looks like I taught you something after all. If this goes well, maybe I’ll reconsider letting you come back, Goro. You did survive all this time. If you can learn, then maybe I have some use for you after all. I might have been too hasty dismissing you.” Shido said all of this while looking so smug.

This didn’t stop Akechi’s eyes from lighting up. Shido had thrown him out two years prior when he lost the elections. He didn’t need his tiny hit man anymore, since his career path changed, and Shido was downsizing. He had to get rid of anyone that knew his dirty laundry. He had tried to dispose of Akechi completely, but his protégé managed to crawl out of the gutter, barely escaping death. Ever since then, they had ignored each other. Akechi clearly wasn’t snitching for whatever reason and Shido just carried on, deciding he’d snuff out the boy’s light if it ever came up again. Akechi was of course trying to frame Shido for murder, but he had thought Shido was ignorant and wasn’t paying attention to him. He’d never been recognized for his achievements before, why would his father look at him now?

Truth be told, Akechi heavily blamed Shido for taking his sicker urges and giving them a direction, for using him to kill Wakaba Isshiki, along with his other political rivals and enemies. It was Shido’s fault he had ever started killing and now he couldn’t stop himself. His own father exploited the darkness he saw in him and now Akechi had to live as a monster. Not killing Akira made him realize that’s what he was, but even before then, he blamed Shido for all his misgivings.

Akechi wanted to burn Shido for using him and throwing him out, but if he would take him back, he wouldn’t have to keep trying to frame him. He could get close enough to destroy him from the inside. He could get him to admit to all his actual crimes, not just ones Akechi was fabricating. That would be so much more satisfying. Akechi could finally make him kneel and beg like the dog he actually was.

Shido laughed cruelly. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself. First, prove yourself to me. My new cat is very good. I could probably get him to do your old job too, so you’re basically interchangeable. Show me you’re better; convince me you’re worth more than the garbage that I threw you out in.”

Akechi nodded, determined to win now. All his plans had changed suddenly. He saw his chance and he had to take it. Akira would just have to put up with Shido’s torment as the loser for his sake. He said he’d do anything after all, so he could wait until Akechi had his revenge and then they could run off together. He’d understand. Besides, he loved sex, so he was probably living it up anyway.

Akechi put on his best “I actually enjoy doing this” face and grabbed Shido’s tie, pulling him towards the couch in his office. He playfully pushed him down and pulled off his glove with his teeth. Shido had always liked Akechi to make an extravagant effort that in the end would be fruitless, as the man would just dominate him when he got bored anyway. Honestly, he should have seen his exile coming originally based on that. Shido wanted someone to submit to his whims and to throw them out when he was done. This time would be different though. He’d win before Shido could do him in. He’d be the honey trap this time.

He removed his second glove and tossed it away coyly, pulling off his tie. He sat in Shido’s lap and hung onto his shoulder delicately. The man always commented on how feminine he was, but Akechi knew he liked it; he liked humiliating people. He removed Shido’s glasses and set them aside, leaning down to kiss him gently. Shido pressed back against his lips more forcefully, pushing his tongue aggressively into Akechi’s mouth. Things were about to heat up and Akechi was ready for his pay back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all wash our eyeballs out from the last chapter and move onto something that might be just as bad!
> 
> Thanks for the kudos on the last one. Don't think I didn't see you guys 0u0~ Nothing after that is nearly as rapey for the most part, so if you've made it this far, it's hopefully smooth sailing from here on out.
> 
> Stay tuned!


	19. Chapter 19

Akechi was going to fuck Shido’s brains out, and then get reinstated as Shido’s guard dog, and then manipulate him into confessing everything he’d ever done and killing himself. It was the perfect plan. Akechi could then live a normal life. Maybe eventually he’d even learn to control his murderous urges, but even if he didn’t, Akira would be there for him. Things were going to be looking up. Only right now, Akechi was looking down.

Shido had mushed Akechi away from their make out session and onto the floor. “Why don’t you use that mouth of yours for the only thing it’s good for,” he suggested.

Akechi complied and got to his knees between Shido’s legs. He stroked the man’s thighs and watched him undo his pants and release his cock from its confines. He wasn’t fully aroused yet, so Akechi grabbed hold to stroke it gently, squeezing and rubbing his thumb over the tip.

“I have missed this,” Shido admitted, leaning back to spread his arms over the back of the couch, relaxing with a carefree sigh. “Perhaps you’ll win by default. You definitely have a more fuckable face.”

“Thank you, daddy,” Akechi said pointedly, biting back his annoyance. Shido used to love when he called him that, even though Akechi never had the chance to tell him the truth before his shameful dismissal. His disgusting fetish was indeed very ironic.

“Ha! You remember! Good boy,” Shido grinned darkly. He hummed as Akechi took his head in his warm, wet mouth. “You must have some pretty bad debt to come crawling back to me like this, but at least you’ve learned to wipe that nasty, defiant look off your face. Humble and needy looks good on you.”

Akechi wanted to bite down but sucked softly instead, fingers still caressing the length that wasn’t in his mouth yet. He looked up at Shido with a sultry gaze. He was right, Akechi had learned to cover his hatred with pleasantness and his abhorrence with poise. His dirty looks had always betrayed him before, getting him nowhere and nothing, but not anymore.

Shido returned Akechi’s withering submissive look with a disgusting grin and reached down to pet him softly. He then grabbed a fistful of hair roughly, making Akechi yelp. “You’re so pathetic. You were too useless to even die correctly and look at you now. You have fame and fortune and you fuck that up too.” He grunted as Akechi kept his concentration as he started moving his head to take more into his mouth. He sucked particularly hard at that insult and Shido twisted his grip harder, making Akechi whine. He obviously wanted to break him and win their chess match. “It’s okay. Some people are unable to ever take care of themselves. You’re only purpose is to be controlled. You will never find satisfaction on your own. I don’t know if you noticed, Goro, but win or lose in this arrangement, and I will control you again. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it, for me to take you back?”

Akechi dug his nails lightly into Shido’s thigh and ignored his tight grip, taking more and more of him into his mouth with each bob of his head. He licked lavishly along his shaft, remembering the taste all too well. It was like he’d never left. He started to feel dizzy and lose focus. Was this really right? Was regression worth it? He realized vaguely that he had ended up with all of Shido’s length in his mouth. He could feel it at his throat. He wanted to bite down.

Sensing his toy’s mind was wandering, Shido yanked him off his member and pushed him so that his head bashed against the edge of the coffee table. Akechi saw stars and lay on the floor limply, groaning in pain. He could feel blood starting to trickle down his face. Was he dead?

“Still can’t pay attention for shit I see. Did you ever get medication for that, hm? Oh is that the issue? Did you get addicted to pills and can’t afford to keep up anymore? I am oh so curious what toppled the mighty Goro Akechi,” Shido laughed and nudged him roughly with his shoe. He uninterestedly stepped on Akechi’s crotch and rubbed roughly until he moaned, sitting up but not even trying to escape his harsh teasing.

“It’s gambling debt,” Akechi lied and tried to unbutton his pants around the meddlesome foot, knowing what Shido wanted from him.

“Oh? I didn’t take you for a betting man.”

Akechi shrugged and pushed the foot away, or tried to a couple of times as Shido refused to stop fucking around. He got him to cut it out eventually and wriggled out of his pants and boxers. He went to go prepare himself but his hand was kicked away. He hissed.

“You came all the way here to ask for money unprepared? Oh, you little idiot. I guess you didn’t actually learn anything,” Shido chided and pat his lap. “None of that. Suffer for your stupid decisions.”

He looked down in shame. He hadn’t expected to be doing this actually. There had been a change in plans. “Yes daddy,” he said softly and picked himself up off the floor to straddle Shido’s lap. Akechi did all the work and positioned his dick at his entrance, pushing himself down onto it with a wince. Shido decided he was taking too long and pushed himself in the rest of the way forcefully, making Akechi cry out.

“I missed that sound,” Shido cooed with that evil smirk of his. He started thrusting into Akechi without waiting for him, bouncing him on his lap and making him grip Shido’s shoulders tightly. He reached back under his shirt and clawed down Akechi’s back, making him arch forward and whine. “Poor Goro. Does this hurt?”

Akechi cried out again and again as he tried to move to Shido’s pace. The man got impatient and pushed him onto the coffee table, barely giving him time to get his feet on the ground before grabbing his hips and thrusting back into him at a better angle for himself. He grabbed Akechi’s hair and pushed his face into the table, leaving him to claw helplessly at the flat, smooth surface. “Don’t you just love it when I hurt you?”

“Yes! Yes daddy! Please use me. I’m…I’m all yours.” Akechi exclaimed, reaching down to pump his own erection. If he had to do this, he’d at the very least get off too. They ended up coming at the same time, Akechi ruining the carpet and Shido spilling into Akechi’s tight, bleeding ass. He left him collapsed, bent over the table to go get a towel to wipe himself off with.

“That was adequate.” Shido’s words stung but he sounded slightly winded so that was a good sign to Akechi. He had enjoyed himself. “You know what. I won’t make you compete. But that means I don’t need the kitty anymore. As your first mission, you can get rid of him for me.”

“Wait, what?” That was not the deal.

Akechi hadn’t even scraped himself off the table or gotten out of his pants yet before Shido was having Akira shoved into the room. He was more decent than in the photos at least, with clothing on his body, but he looked beaten and blitzed out of his mind. He seemed to barely be able to stand. Akechi saw Akira look at him and he scrambled to get his pants back on and stood up stiffly. Akira said nothing to him. Ouch.

“Akechi, I’d like you to meet my kitten, Akira. Say hi, pet,” Shido instructed with a smug grin.

“Hi,” Akira muttered and stumbled a little. What had they done to him?

Akechi frowned and looked to Shido. He needed to turn things back in his favor quickly. “Why get rid of him? Couldn’t he just pay off his debt and go like you said?”

“Stupid boy. How could he be allowed to leave after all of this? He knows way too much. I was never going to let a loose end like that slip away. Honestly, my nostalgia towards you is bordering on dangerous, but if you plan on being useful to me, you may live. So don’t question me again and do as you're told. Kill him,” Shido ordered, growing more impatient and sounding nastier by the second.

“Uh. Here? In front of you?”

“Yes, go ahead. Feel free to make a mess. I’m redecorating soon anyway. I’ve always wondered what your methods were. Call it a morbid curiosity,” he explained with a smirk, leaning back in his chair and kicking his feet up on the desk to relax and watch a murder as if it were family movie night.

“Okay…” Akechi stepped towards Akira, trying to come up with some sort of plan. He could just take him and run? That was probably his only chance really. Well at least he had him. They just had to run fast. It would be hard with the drugged up baby, but he couldn’t kill him. Not for Shido. It wasn’t worth it. He loved Akira.

With his head spinning, he grabbed Akira’s hand and ran for the door, dragging his boyfriend. But the handle was locked.

“Nice try,” Shido cackled from his desk. Akechi turned towards him like a trapped rat and he saw him do something on his phone. Akira suddenly dropped Akechi’s hand and buckled to the floor, screaming and writhing, grabbing at the collar around his neck. Oh fuck. This had all been a set up.

“Stop it, you’ll kill him!” Akechi ran over to the desk desperately. “Give me the key! Stop it!”

“Silence. If you can’t do such a simple thing, then you’re useless.” Shido explained, letting Akira suffer as he spoke. “I know about your little plans. I know you’ve been using my countryside estate to dump bodies in order to frame me for your transgressions. Did you think I was that stupid?”

“Please stop. We can talk about this,” Akechi begged, his fake, controlled personality falling away in his panic.

“We are talking. This boy here is your weakness. This is your punishment. You should have known your place. I let you crawl out of the gutter. I let you keep your life, and you still couldn’t be grateful even then.” Shido smirked. “You really are a terrible son.”

Akechi’s eyes got wide and he faltered. Suddenly he couldn’t hear the sounds of Akira being slowly tortured to death anymore. All he could hear was a loud ringing in his ears. All he could see what Shido’s conceited smile. “What…”

“I’ve known you were my bastard child since the election. That’s the real reason I tried to get rid of you. I don’t need a disobedient child leaving such a black mark on my family registry. You’re only real use to me was death. If you can’t kill then you should just die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you were all wondering what that incest tag was~ How many times will our boys get hit in the head? No wonder they're messed up they have about 10 concussions each.
> 
> The next chapter is the end of act 2 and then it's a short sprint to the end of the fic. This is honestly where I ran out of the things I had planned besides the ending, which I planned from the start. At first I really didn't like where I was headed with it after this point, but I actually like it a lot now and think I made it work. So hopefully you all like it too. Thanks again for all the support. I'm touched.
> 
> Stay tuned!


	20. Chapter 20

Akechi had just learned Shido knew about everything the whole time. He knew his plans, about Akira, and about Akechi being his son. He was letting Akira choke on his own vomit as he shocked him to death and delivered a chilling promise to Akechi. “Once your little friend dies, I’ll finish what I started with you two years ago,” he said, “Scream all you want. No one can hear you.”

Akechi was frozen. Everything he’d done was for nothing. His whole life was for nothing. His fame, his job, his goals, the murder, it was all worthless now. He was a bad person who’s only purpose was revenge on the monster that created him and made him who he was, and he couldn’t even do that right. And now the one person who had ever looked him in the eyes and saw him for what he really was, the only person who had ever really loved him despite everything he was, was dying on the floor behind him, and he was powerless to stop Shido and save him. Or was he?

In a phenomenal feat of having nothing to lose anymore, Akechi hopped onto the desk like a ninja and grabbed Shido’s letter opener. Before his dad could react, he stabbed it right into his temple. He realized immediately what he’d done and scrambled away, falling back onto the floor with a thud. “Fuck…”

Shido had died immediately. His eyes rolled back and he slumped limply in his chair. Akechi realized Akira was still in danger, so he shakily got to his feet and carefully used Shido’s lifeless fingers to turn off the collar with his phone, so as to not leave prints. Akira went quiet and laid there twitching. He seemed alive still at least.

Akechi concealed his panic. He’d killed before. This wasn’t new so he knew he had to push it way down and deal with the situation first. He immediately went into boy detective mode, evaluating what needed to be done. There were so many pieces of evidence he needed to deal with quickly. It seemed impossible.

The short list was: the letter opener, the messy desk with his foot prints, Akira’s DNA, Akechi’s DNA on the door handle, the coffee table, his semen on the floor, and the fact that they were the last two people to see him alive. Akechi also had an appointment so there was no avoiding others knowing they were there even if he scrubbed the office ceiling to floor. That was all too much to explain. They were going to have to change the story. Akechi decided he could make it look like a suicide.

First, he put on his gloves and took the letter opener, putting it in his coat’s inner pocket. As long as he wasn’t arrested at the scene, he could dispose of it later. If it were a clear-cut suicide, they wouldn’t suspect him. He was running out of time to stage the body, so he tried to go fast.

The next step was to clean up the signs of a struggle. He got his show prints off the desk and tidied up all the pages. He also found Shido’s surveillance photos of him and Akira and took those for himself. He unfortunately wouldn’t have time to hack Shido’s computer, so he called Futaba once he found Akira’s phone in the desk. Shido definitely had incriminating evidence on his computer of Akechi and if the police looked into his business even a little, it would also point to Akechi. They’d definitely look. The company couldn’t cover up all his wrong doings. His death was a chance for the whole company to blame him for anything they wanted to get away with and Akechi aimed to cash in too. The only issue was telling Futaba. But he’d deal with her later too if he had to.

“Futaba –“

“Where is Akira?!” she screamed, “Akechi I found what you did to my mom! Where is Akira? I’m calling the police you murdering fink! I’ll kill you myself!” Oh good. Her diligence in Akira’s absence made things easier to explain. Yay.

“Futaba, listen to me. I can explain to you everything later, but right now –“

“No. Tell me now!”

“My father, Masayoshi Shido called the hit on your mother in order to steal her research,” Akechi said quietly. “He kidnapped Akira. I’ll accept your punishment later, but right now I need your help.”

“I’m not helping a murderer!”

“I found Akira,” he admitted, “I have him with me.”

“Don’t you touch him!” Futaba threatened.

“I don’t have a lot of time, Futaba. I will bring him to you, but if you don’t help me, we will both end up in prison.”

“You deserve it,” she hissed.

“But does Akira?”

“No. Obviously not!” There was a pause. “Okay, I get it.”

“Just wipe Shido’s computer of the evidence of me killing for him and Akira’s involvement. If you want, hang onto the data, and if I can’t convince you to delete it, you can call the police AFTER I get us to safety. This is time sensitive. I will bring him straight to you if you do this for me.” Akechi was almost begging.

“How can I trust you?” Futaba said, voice quiet and weak now. She had been doing a lot of crying lately.

“I could have left him here. I hate Shido and I could have let Akira suffer instead of trying to save him and now I might go to jail for it. I could have just left Akira here to die instead.” Akechi frowned. Futaba was taking a long, silent break from talking.

“Ok. Fine,” she said finally.

Akechi got Futaba access to the computer and she scrubbed it clean while he finished cleaning anything that didn’t fit into his narrative. The final thing was to stage the body. Akechi found Shido’s gun and forced his dead fingers around the handle, making him fire it through the wound he’d created with the letter opener, making it look like he killed himself instead and destroying any evidence to contradict that.

The sound of the gunshot woke Akira up from his comatose state and he bolted upright, wincing and hugging himself. Akechi let Shido slump in his seat and ran over to embrace his boyfriend.

The door was unlocked as Shido’s secretary ran in and screamed, quickly reacting to go dial the cops. No one would point a finger at the boys. They were powerless to stop him. Ugly truths would be uncovered about Shido, but the company would probably try to minimize the damage as they had all done a great many terrible things as well, so they probably wouldn’t alert anyone to the missing data. The official story that Akechi reported to the police was that Shido had tried to blackmail him by kidnapping Akira, which was true. Akechi hadn’t the faintest clue why he would want to blackmail him though, as he was a good boy. However, things went bad when Akechi revealed to Shido that he was his bastard son to try to convince him to let Akira go. As Shido had just raped Akechi, he couldn’t live with the guilt of his sins anymore and took his own life. Akechi technically got everything he wanted as far as the public’s opinion went. Shido just never said it with his own mouth. He could pretend though. He could and he would.

Akech and Akira had to be taken to the hospital for treatment so they didn’t go to Futaba’s immediately. Things were worse for Akira than Akechi had originally assumed. They had to cut the shock collar off him and he had sustained bad burns underneath it, among other injuries.

After they were cleared of any suspicion thanks to Akechi being the sole witness and excellent at speaking to the cops, he called Futaba to come and see them in the hospital. He sat by Akira’s bedside as he slept. Akira had been given fluids to help bring him down from the illicit substances in him, but he was going to need time.

Futaba ran into the room the second she arrived, red faced from running and also from anger. “Akechi, get out. You aren’t welcome here,” she hissed, careful not to be too loud.

Akechi sighed and pushed himself up, approaching her.

“Eeee! Don’t kill me!” She flinched and put an arm up in front of herself defensively, whining pathetically.

“I don’t plan on it,” Akechi said softly. He frowned. “Akira knew my secret and it put him in danger. I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

“It is!” She huffed while still cowering simultaneously somehow. She tried to relax and face him, a weird mix of emotions on her face. She was relieved and angry and grieving and scared all at the same time.

“Did you go to the police?” Akechi wondered if he would die soon. Maybe it didn’t matter now that Shido was dead.

“No…” Futaba admitted and looked down. “You…you’re the worst. But Shido made you do it and I guess he would have killed you if you didn’t probably…and I guess you’re crazy now because of it? Or you were already crazy…but you didn’t have a choice. But what if Akira wakes up crazy? No one would do anything against him. We’d try to help him no matter what, because he’s our friend. You don’t have any friends to help you…” Futaba’s ramblings made Akechi frown and she sputtered to back track. “Uh uh what I mean is you have to get help! If you do anything like this ever again, I will tattle,” she threatened and crossed her arms, glaring at him but quickly melted into tears. “You…you saved Akira…this is your last chance.”

Akechi nodded and headed towards the door. “I won’t be seeing you then. Tell Akira I’m sorry.”

“Ok…” Futaba muttered and went to take Akechi’s place at Akira’s side. She would call everyone to come now that she shooed away his evil ex-boyfriend. The whole gang knew that Akira had been in trouble and they were all making plans to get back to Tokyo to come help take care of him. 

Futaba now had a terrible burning secret to keep and It would kill her inside, but she knew how much Akechi meant to Akira. She couldn’t bring herself to take all that away from him, even if it meant her own suffering. She missed her mom, but Akira was here now and getting Akechi sent to death wouldn’t bring her back, only make the person most important to her now miserable. She’d have to just endure her grief for his sake.

Akechi returned home and stared at his empty, sterile apartment. The few times Akira had stayed over had breathed life into his blank living space and now it was oppressively vacant. He’d never had anyone before, but it hurt so much more to have loved someone and now he’d never be allowed near that person again. He really had screwed up. He was born screwed up. Maybe it would have been better if he had just stopped existing. Nothing good had ever come from his actions and he’d surely go to hell, but no one would even miss him, and that’s what hurt most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that brings us to the end of the 2nd act! Akechi got away with murder but he didn't get the guy. What will become of our tragic lovers now?
> 
> Act two was unofficially titled: "Everything gets wrapped up into a neat bow and all questions are answered.
> 
> Act three is titled: "Wait? You guys are still here? Oh shit...uh....lemme think of something!"
> 
> Stay tuned for more sadness and drama!


	21. Chapter 21

Akechi stared at Morgana. He had forgot he had the cat. He was going to have trouble giving him back if he wasn’t allowed to see Akira. His friends were all taking turns taking care of him and were making sure Akechi stayed away. He was apparently really fucked up and he knew some details from his bad stalking habit, but nothing substantial. Akira had always been very quiet, so no one actually knew exactly the extent of the damage done. He was either okay but shaken up or hiding some serious issues. It was hard to say. Akechi was more than aware what Shido could have done to him, so if no one was every able to put Akira back together again, that wouldn’t be surprising unfortunately. 

“I miss Akira!” Morgana whined from the floor at Akechi.

“Me too,” Akechi muttered on the couch. Wait. He glanced at the normal cat and scowled. Oh, he was talking for a cat now. He officially was crazy if he wasn’t already before. Being alone was making him restless and angry. Akechi was honestly scared that he would lose control of his dark urges and hurt someone again. Futaba had promised she’d have him arrested if he did, but besides that, for the first time in his life he didn’t want to give in. He didn’t want to kill anymore. He wanted to be better. Akira made him want to be better. He wanted Akira back. If he killed Futaba, he could have Akira back and also satisfy his urges. 

“Don’t kill Futaba!” Morgana growled. Right. He wanted to not kill, not to kill. At least his crazy talking cat was there for him. But it wasn’t his cat. Akechi would have to give him back eventually. Then he’d really be alone. 

After a few days of sulking, not even able to drown it out with his job, as he was on forced leave from work due to his “trauma,” Akechi started to feel like he should give in to his impulses. If he couldn’t alleviate his mental stress by killing, then he could always just die himself. He started fantasizing about the best way to die, but luckily didn’t get very far past the beginnings of his mental plans before his phone went off with a pleasant ding. Akechi’s ears rang from the sudden interruption from his maddening silence. He grabbed his phone to check his messages. It was just a subscription alert. 

Joker had updated his fanfiction. But how? Akira was Joker and Akira was too fucked up to be writing, especially when he was being babysat 24/7 by friends that Akechi assumed were unaware of his dirty, real people shipping online persona. Maybe it was just Futaba revenge trolling him. Either way, he grabbed his laptop to read the new chapter since he couldn’t resist, even if it might have all been a sick joke. 

 

_Akechi held his gun to Joker’s forehead. This time, there was no way out. He was going to arrest his roval and be a hero. The day had finally come.  
_

_“Any last words, Joker?” Akechi said as he unclipped his handcuffs from his belt, eyes trained on his mark intently.  
_

_“It’s all over then, isn’t it?” Joker smiled sadly at the detective.  
_

_“Mhm. You’re going to jail for your crimes. I should have done this a long time ago,” Akechi declared. He frowned as he watched his rival. Why did Joker look so happy? He was captured. He should have been panicked, not smiling!  
_

_“Probably. Why didn’t you then? Maybe you understand my side more than you think?” Joker suggested.  
_

_“Don’t try to weasel your way out of this. You’re a criminal. You may have helped a couple of people, but you cannot break the law without consequences,” Akechi growled.  
_

_“Do you like me, Goro?” Joker wondered.  
_

_Akechi was taken aback by that and needed a moment befre he even could think of how to respond. “Don’t be so informal with me…”  
_

_“Well do you, Akechi?” He pressed.  
_

_“I…of course I like you. Everyone likes you. You probably will be elected mayor of jail or something, you god damn charismatic jerk.” Akechi huffed and forced himself not to look away in embarrassment. He was on the job and needed to stay focused.  
_

_“Will you visit me?”_

_Akechi had to think about that and ended up sighing. “Yes, of course. I might need your advice on my new cases.” That was a valid excuse that people would buy, yes._

_Joker smiled softly and nodded. “Okay. I’m ready.”_

The fic ended there. There were no author’s notes or anything. It was marked as completed. Akechi scrunched his face and had to rub his eyes on his sleeve. He growled and shut his laptop. What the hell did that mean? Was Akira saying their relationship was over? But the undertone was more like he was asking Akechi to come see him; he felt trapped and wanted someone to visit him. It was all very confusing! He decided to just do whatever the fuck he wanted if reading into the subtle hints wasn’t going to be conclusive. Sitting around was driving him mad. He at least needed closure and to say goodbye, something he was robbed of at the hospital. He also needed to give the damn cat back. 

“Hey, that’s super rude!” Morgana protested. 

Akechi sniffed and ran his fingers through his hair, laughing defeated. “I’m talking to a damn cat.” He had no idea where he’d picked that habit up. 

Having no idea how to get to Akira, Akechi decided the only place he could possibly get him alone would be at the café. Sojiro was probably keeping an eye on him, at least for a few shifts, so all he had to do was convince the old fool that he was there peacefully. He was in fact not trying to cause trouble and he should have been allowed to talk to Akira for himself, even if it was briefly. 

Taking Morgana in a shoulder bag, Akechi took the train to Yongen-Jaya the next afternoon. He would just go over every day until he got lucky. Sojiro didn’t seem pleased to see him. Had Futaba blabbed? She couldn’t have. Sojiro was an actual adult and definitely would have called the cops already. So what was his issue? 

“So you had the cat then?” Sojiro said dryly, crossing his arms.

“Yes. So it would seem,” Akechi replied, trying to seem pleasant. 

“No one could find it. It’s been a while mess and somehow you had it? Why didn’t you come by sooner?” 

Akechi took a seat and sat the cat bag down on the stool next to him. “I was told Akira didn’t want to see me.” 

“I don’t know shit about that. He’s all kinds of messed up right now and could have really used the cat,” Sojiro sneered. “You seem fine,” he commented suspiciously. 

“This is not the first bad thing my father has done. I’m quite used to it,” Akechi said matter-of-factually. 

“Shit. Sorry. I mean I knew Shido could be fucked up but…I just didn’t know the extent.” Sojiro seemed to soften up a bit. 

“It’s all right. I’ll be fine. I’m beside myself over what he did to Akira though.” He frowned and folded his hands in his lap. “I regret his forced involvement. I feel partially to blame.”

“It aint your fault. You dad is nuts, but you can’t control him; only you. You know he tried to electrocute Akira to death right? Only an insane person would do that shit.” 

“I know. I saw him do it,” Akechi confirmed.

“And you stopped him with your big secret?” Sojiro prodded. 

“Yes.” 

“Kid, Shido didn’t kill himself, did he?” There it was. 

“No,” Akechi admitted; they both understood what that meant. 

“…Thanks. You seem like a little shit, but Akira is like my own son and you saved his life. I don’t care how you did it.” Sojiro paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s it. Don’t expect any favors. Okay brat?” 

“Oh no. I wouldn’t dream of it.” Akechi laughed, feeling a bit touched. He wouldn’t be saying thanks if he knew what Akechi did to Wakaba, but he appreciated the ignorant sentiment. 

Akira took that moment to walk into Leblanc and he stared blankly at Akechi. He looked empty. Had he really been the one to update his story? He wandered over and scooped up Morgana, giving him a big hug and looked at Sojiro. “You found him?” 

“Don’t be an idiot,” Sojiro said, walking around the counter and squeezing Akira’s shoulder. “I’m going to smoke. Don’t explode the place for the five minutes I’m gone.” Akira nodded and he left them alone. 

“Please stop following me,” Akira muttered once Sojiro was out of earshot. He took a seat with his cat and looked away. 

“What? I haven’t –“

“Why even lie? I just want you to leave me alone,” Akira said coldly. 

“What about your story?” Akechi pressed, confused. Did Akira hate him now; after all that? That wasn’t fair at all.

“That wasn’t for you. It was for the real Akechi. Butt out.” 

Wait what. “The real Akechi? Akira, it’s me. There isn’t another one.” He stood up and took a step towards him and Akira flinched. What the fuck was going on? Did anyone else know about it? Akira seemed like he was hiding this particular issue pretty well and his façade had only just fallen apart right then and there. 

“Don’t try to gaslight me. I’m not an idiot. Stop trying to convince me otherwise. You aren’t helping, so just leave me alone.” Akira seemed to think he was seeing things. Had Shido done more permanent damage than he’d originally let on? 

Akechi did the only thing he could think of and reacted without considering the consequences first and just slapped Akira across the face with an open palm. The sound the strike made reverberated through the tiny café. Akira looked momentarily devastated but also seemed to realize that he had made a grievously incorrect assumption. Akechi had brought the cat back. He wasn’t a vision. 

“Akechi!” Akira looked panicked and he looked away quickly, rubbing his cheek. He seemed embarrassed. “S-sorry.” 

“Did you want me to meet with you or not?” Akechi asked bluntly. 

“I did. I knew you were smart enough to understand.” Akira looked back up at him with a soft, sincere smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the beginning of the end! Akechi and Akira have basically switched roles, but what does that mean for the two of them? Will Akira become a killer and will Akechi start hallucinating? Who knows!
> 
> Stay tuned to find out!~


	22. Chapter 22

“We don’t have to talk about what happened with Shido if you don’t want. I know him well enough to get the idea,” Akechi said, now sitting at the bar as Akira made them coffee out of strong habit. Sojiro never came back. Did he just go home? He did seem that irresponsible to leave Akira alone with a murderer, but Akechi wasn’t complaining.

“Thank you…” Akira muttered, clearly relieved he wouldn’t have to relive his trauma.

“I’m just wondering if maybe you should go back to the doctors if you’re hallucinating. Or is it just drugs?” Akechi felt partially responsible but he didn’t want to be lumped into the blame group with Shido. What he had done was nothing in comparison to his dead dad’s actions.

“It’s fine,” Akira said dismissively, setting down a cup of coffee in front of Akechi.

“Is he here right now; the fake me?” Akechi sipped his drink and watched Akira carefully.

“No.” Akira walked around to sit next to Akechi with his own drink. “Unless you’re tricking me.”

“Can you not tell the difference?”

“Sometimes I can. Lately, it’s been more complicated,” Akira admitted.

“Wait…was this going on before Shido?” Akechi asked, realizing what Akira had implied. Akira looked down and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him. Had he actually be at fault then? Had he caused this issue? “How long have you been hallucinating like this?” No answer. “Was it my fault?” Akechi just asked bluntly. Akira shook his head. “The plague doctor’s?” Akira shook his head again. “How long, Akira,” Akechi pressed.

“Uh…” Akira looked up at him with a guilty expression. “Since the TV station?”

“What?” Akechi didn’t remember what he was talking about. Should he have?

“Two years ago. My class was there on a field trip.”

“Akira, holy shit. Did you not try to get help?” Akechi didn’t even remember that. He wasn’t really one to talk about getting help though. Akira frowned and shook his head. “How did no one realize you’re crazy?” He frowned harder at that label and shrugged. “Okay okay. Sorry. I guess I’m not really one to talk…”

“No. Not really,” Akira said bluntly. “I loved you since the moment I saw you, but you were completely unreachable. The only way I thought I’d ever get to be with you was with Fakechi.”

“Fakechi?” Akechi snickered. That was a terrible name.

“I knew it wasn’t real but…I mean you liked my story and that wasn’t real either,” Akira argued.

Akechi shrugged. “I suppose. This is just slightly more severe.”

“You kill people.”

“Okay. So we both have a few issues,” Akechi sighed. “What was I like then? Like in your fanfiction?”

“For the most part.” Akira shrunk in on himself and looked away. He clearly had never spoken about this with anyone before. “But he’s been weird since…yeah.” He was referring to Shido trying to kill him. He probably had the same thought that Akechi was having, that the drugs or trauma or electricity, or all three had taken whatever had already been shaken loose in Akira’s head and just snapped it right off.

“You should probably get help. You and your mind know what I’m really like now. You won’t be able to just shut him out forever, especially if he’s more like the real me than before,” Akechi said with a scowl. He had saved Akira’s life without thinking of the consequences at all. He knew he loved Akira at least enough to do that. He didn’t really have a desire to break him anymore. This whole situation was bitterly ironic. Earlier, he would have loved this, but now, not so much.

“No…I want to be with you and everyone had been keeping me away. I don’t want him like how he’s been acting, but I don’t want to have nothing.” Akira was getting worked up. Akechi was everything it seemed and now his whole world was crumbling. It made sense he’d be upset.

“Futaba told me not to go near you,” Akechi explained. “She knows about me.”

“So I’ll talk to her,” Akira insisted.

“I killed her mother.”

“Akechi!” Akira hit his shoulder. He was so weak it was pathetic. He also looked furious. “Why do you have to be bad? Why can’t you just be good and then we could be together.” He crumpled and tears started forming in his eyes. Akira was so adorable but this was also pretty serious. He was also right. 

Akechi didn’t know why he was the way he was. Even before Shido directed his impulses, he still had them on his own. He’d grown up misbehaving but always managing to cover it up. No one loved him. No one was kind to him. So what did he care if he hit the family dog a little too hard with a branch from the yard? Everyone loved that dog more than him; he deserved it. He’d hit his classmates and start fires but he’d never get in trouble. He was an expert at pretending to be a little angel and no one ever believed the snitches over him. He’d cheat and lie and do anything to get what he wanted, even agree to kill for the man who had abandoned him and his mother just to get close to him. He never held himself to a moral standard. He’d been wronged and deserved to do as he pleased. He had always been like this.

“Can you even stop? If you wanted to, could you stop?”

“I don’t know. Probably not,” he said honestly. “Even if we could see each other again, I couldn’t even promise I wouldn’t end up killing you.”

“Why? Don’t you love me too?”

“Actually, yes I do. You’re the only person I’ve ever felt this way about, Akira. I don’t want you dead.” Akechi finished his coffee and stared at the bottom of the empty mug. “You’re my only real friend, but if staying away means you live, then, I think that’s probably for the best. I think you should get help for your hallucinations before Fakechi…god that’s a dumb name.” He shook his head and got back on track. “Before I kill you in your head. Don’t trust me not to.”

Akira looked devastated but Akechi got up anyway and looked at him sadly. He wanted to ruffle his soft hair or kiss his tears away or cut him open and feel his still thumping heart as it pumped its last beat and wash his hands with his creamy insides. He wanted to consume him so that they would become one. 

And there it was. Suddenly it was time to go. He smiled sadly and walked out without even saying goodbye.

Going into it, Akechi had thought he was going to win Akira back, but their meeting just finalized that it was over. He’d kill Akira if he stayed near him. Maybe he did need help too? But who would help him? He’d already gone way too far. It was too late to get help.

He returned home feeling worse than when he’d left, and now he didn’t even have Morgana to talk to. He couldn’t think of what he wanted anymore. He’d gotten his empty revenge. Shido’s dead, lifeless corpse was burned into his memories. Thinking of it was only barely satisfying, but also stripped his life of any meaning. He had no one to hold a grudge against, no friends, and no goals. Was his life really over; just like that?

Instead of stewing on his suicidal inclinations for too long, Akechi just curled up in his bed and reread Akira’s fanfictions from the very beginning with a slightly new perspective. He knew now that Akira had been writing with his hallucinations in mind. It wasn’t the most productive or healthy idea to obsess over something he couldn’t have like that, but Akira had done it for years successfully. At least it was keeping Akechi occupied and away from his more destructive thoughts. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand it, but he was giving himself points for trying when he never had before. It was such a shitty time to start making an effort; well after everything was ruined for good.

Unsatisfied after binging Akira’s whole library of works, Akechi decided he needed more if he was going to keep it all together. He would just have to take a page from Akira’s book and if he couldn’t get what he desired, he’d write a world where he could.

Under the pen-name “Crow,” Akechi wrote his own fanfiction about Akira’s version of Akechi becoming a Phantom Thief. Instead of catching Joker for good, he joined him and his life of crime. He understood Joker’s mission and believed in him and had fun being his partner in crime. Instead of prison, they were both free and together. Love won.

Not everyone online liked Akechi’s portrayal of himself. Who were they to criticize him, right real Akechi? Of course people wouldn’t necessarily like him being put in the role of the bad guy. It painted him in a bad light that was for sure. Also calling himself Crow and making this Akechi use the name Crow made people angry. He seemed like he was being pretentious, as if to say he WAS Akechi, which he was, but no one knew that. That part might have been a misstep. In the end, it had been to indulge himself, not others, so Akechi didn’t care. He felt a little less empty.

As luck would have it, he even got a notification that Joker himself liked his fic. It was prestigious endorsement but that also meant that Akira had read what he wrote and liked it. Maybe they could be together this way, separated and safe. He wanted to message Akira about it but decided he better not. For the time being he would accept the minimal attention. Being greedy led to being violent historically for Akechi, so he tried to refrain from immediately slipping. The single like was enough for now.

Akechi wrote more stories to pass the time and he eventually was able to go back to work on a trial basis. He was only allowed to do deskwork until he passed a mental health evaluation, but that was fine. He was actually starting to feel better, so being charming and seeming mentally sound would be no problem as it never had been.

He felt as though he was over the hump and it was all thanks to the excitement he felt every time Akira liked one of his stories. Right now, he was living just for that. Eventually it wouldn’t be enough, but at the moment it was a good enough purpose to get him back on his feet. He just needed to take it one step at a time. He wondered how Akira was holding up and if he had managed to get help. Maybe Akechi had cheered him up some. If he liked the stories, then maybe that was the case. Maybe they could still save each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the few chapters of a lull in crazy shit because the crazy shit is going to start up again. Enjoy your whiplash!
> 
> Stay tuned!~


	23. Chapter 23

Akira sat in his bed in his dorm with his cat and his laptop. He was trying to read Akechi’s newest fanfic. While he couldn’t see his murderer boyfriend anymore, at least he could enjoy the stories he was clearly writing just for him. He knew Crow was Akechi as sure as he knew that curry was the best food group. He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew. Even if Crow wasn’t Akechi, Akira didn’t want to know. He wanted to believe. The only issue was he couldn’t concentrate. Someone was watching him.

Fakechi sat in the desk chair with a cold gaze trained on Akira. He had been like this ever since Akira’s near death experience. When he’d woken up, Fakechi was somehow wrong. Akira had his eyes locked with him and they’d been staring at each other for a few minutes. The silence between them was only broken when Morgana began to lick himself.

“Please go away,” Akira finally said.

“I don’t want to,” Fakechi replied bluntly. “Why do you want me gone so badly? I’m all you have left.”

“But you suck now.”

“How cruel of you.” He pouted and sighed dramatically. “I’ve been there for you no matter what and now that you don’t want me anymore, you’re just going to throw me out? That really hurts, Akira.”

“Sorry…”

“You should be.” Fakechi stood up and Akira grew tense. “It’s always “Akechi this” and “Akechi that.” I always knew I couldn’t compare to the real deal, but you’d really just callously toss me aside? After everything I’ve done for you? Was this always your end game? You’d meet the real Akechi and forget all about me as if I never existed?”

“But you don’t exist,” Akira muttered.

Fakechi laughed darkly. “Oh that’s rich. God, you’re such a hypocrite. What about my feelings? Have you never oce considered me? Or was it only ever about you?”

Akira didn’t answer and Fakechi leaned over the bed, grabbing his laptop and tossing it haphazardly to the floor. Morgana yelped and scampered away. When the laptop clattered to the ground, the screen flickered and went black. Akira withdrew in on himself but Fakechi straddled him on the bed, leaning his hands on the wall on either side of his head, their noses inches apart.

“So I’m not real am I?” His breath was warm against Akira’s face. “So you won’t mind if I just went about my business as I please then, right; seeing how it’s not real and all.” Fakechi shifted so his knee was between Akira’s legs, pressed threateningly against his crotch. Akira tried to look away but he grabbed his chin and turned his head back towards him. “Do you love me, Akira?”

“Yes…” he said softly, voice shaking.

“Then why are you acting like this?” Fakechi cooed, a little less aggressively.

“I’m scared…”

“Why? Even if I hurt you, it doesn’t matter. You like it when the real Akechi was tormenting you.” He started to rub his crotch with his knee in a languid, smooth rhythm. “You loved it. You wanted to be his living doll. So why is this any different? I wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t want it somewhere deep down. This is all you.”

Akira whined and shifted under him. “I…I guess so.”

“See?” Fakechi kissed him gently. “You have nothing to worry about. Just relax. Let me do all the work. You won’t have to think about anything, only me.”

Akira stared at him and nodded slightly, giving into the prodding. He missed Akechi. He was miserable. No one would leave him alone since everyone was so worried about him. At least his mind was offering him some sort of release from his stress.

“Just do whatever I say and I’ll take good care of you,” Fakechi promised, letting his chin go to stroke his fluffy hair and they kissed again, slow and deep, Akira letting him explore inside his mouth while he rubbed him gently.

Fakechi took his time, undressing Akira with great care, running his hands all over his smooth skin, caressing him like a precious item or a work of art. He was calm and methodical, lulling Akira into a fog of pleasure, pampering him with kisses down his chest and up his thighs. He took his time worshiping him and getting him to relax, praising him for how good he was. He said he was beautiful; that he loved him like the moon loves the sun.

When he started to heat things up a bit, he just continued to draw things out to excess. His fingers in Akira explored every crevasse, stroking his walls like silk. He told Akira to just lie there and experience all he had to offer. It had always been about Akira. He didn’t want him to just submit to his own urges, but become lost in them and never be found again.

With a strip of silky fabric, Fakechi leaned over Akira and tied it behind his head, gagging him with it. He shushed him and put a finger to his lips. He found his prostate with the digits he’d reinserted inside him and rubbed it pointedly, making him squirm. Akira was staring at him blankly, slowly losing to the thrall of the bliss he was being offered.

Giving in to what his mind wanted was the last of Akira’s will power slipping away as he drifted into a dark abyss. He felt like the past few weeks had been a fever dream and this was just the climax. Fevers indicated illness, but also were necessary in fighting that illness. Akira just needed to let it run its course, let his mind take his body for just a little bit longer to heal him. Nothing else was helping. Resisting Fakechi had been as useless as if he had tried to fight the real one. It made sense. He would just let him have what he wanted like he did with Akechi and things would end up in his favor eventually.

Akira was consumed by sensation as his muse showered him in attention. He filled him up and warmed him and made him writhe in pleasure. He felt so good. He was beginning to feel at peace again, as if the turbulent tides were settling and the sky was clearing after the hurricane that currently plagued his thoughts.

Of course, Fakechi wasn’t going to be satisfied with just bathing Akira in heavenly light and snuggling him on clouds of pillows. He had his own version of euphoria to strive for. He had stolen the denying pleasure idea from Akechi himself and used the same silicone run to keep Akira painfully aroused as he conducted his devoted ceremony. He inserted a fancy vibrating egg into him as he kissed all over his neck. It pulsed rhythmically and Akira groaned and shut his eyes. He felt his cares fade away as Fakechi tenderly pushed it in further with his long fingers. Waves of pleasure washed over him, swelling through him like a sweet melody.

Things progressed and Fakechi took his vision to the next level. He kneeled over Akira as he was lost in pleasure and held his arm down, positioning a knife against his skin. Akira became acutely aware of what he was doing and groaned, unable to say much else. Fakechi had said to submit, so he decided to just roll with it. It was all just a fantasy anyway.

The specter boy watched Akira until he relaxed again, confirming it was okay to proceed. He took his lack of protests as a go ahead and sliced across his arm. It didn’t sting or hurt, it just sent more rippled of energy cascading through him. He moaned softly and Fakechi leaned down to lick his wound slowly and delicately. It made Akira’s mind buzz. He felt weak and overtaken by desire. He let Fakechi continue to cut him with the utmost care and attention, breath hitching each time. He felt like he’d go insane if he didn’t orgasm soon.

Once he was bloody and panting, whining as if he’d given up on ever being anything other than a boneless pile of goo again, the muse set the knife down and sat on Akira’s chest. He wrapped his long fingers around Akira’s neck and pressed down, gradually increasing the pressure until his air was cut off completely.

Akira gasped, trying fruitlessly to expand his lungs. He felt a cold grip start to close around his chest and the sides of his vision began to grow dim. He grabbed at the wrists pinning him down feebly as he tried and tried to suck in air. His body was reacting without instruction, as he had wanted to let him do this, but his brain was determined to not die, funny as his brain was also creating this dream at the same time. Which side of the battle would win?

Finally, as he started to fade out, the hands just let go of him and he took a huge breath in and it all flooded out. As he returned air and life to his body, he shuddered and bucked under Fakechi, orgasm rippling through him, leaving him shaking and moaning softly. He was drained of all his energy and collapsed back onto the bed.

When he came to his senses, Fakechi was gone, as were all the props, and Akira sat up, alone, clothed. He needed to clean himself off but when he went into the bathroom and turned on the light, he found his arms and legs were dripping in bloody cuts. His chest wound up tightly in anxiety and he looked in the mirror. He saw dark bruises forming on his neck on top of the scars from the shock collar. What was going on? 

He stared at himself and his reflection in the mirror smiled back darkly. It raised a finger to his lips to shush him and winked. Fuck! He jumped and scrambled back, tripping and crashed to the floor. Akira entered a blind panic and tried to clean himself up a little and just ran back to bed to lie there, too afraid to move or shut his eyes. He needed help. This was too much. He needed someone to help him, but no one even know what was happening to him. No one would understand, even if he could explain it. Well, not no one. One person understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the...fancy self-harm kaleidoscope sex?????
> 
> Things got weird.
> 
> The next chapter is even weirder if you can believe it. 
> 
> Stay tuned!


	24. Chapter 24

Akechi was asleep. It was the middle of the night. He knew he was asleep because as he sat at his table, there were eyes on the walls all around him. They were red and demonic and all staring right at him, unblinking and judgmental. His feet were stuck to the floor. It was soft and felt wet and warm against his bare skin. Something had him; some sort of tendril or vine was wrapped around his ankles, tightening like snakes and winding up his legs, creeping up him to try to envelop him completely. 

Looking around at the eyeballs, they were part of the walls, organic, as if the room was alive. A low hum surrounded him or was it all just in his own head? He knew he was dreaming, but that didn’t keep him from getting freaked out.

“Obey,” a deep voice said.

“Submit,” said another, coming from nowhere. Akechi looked for the source and found nothing. He tried to wiggle his legs but it made the tendrils tighten so he stopped and sat still. The eyes squinted cruelly.

“Consume,” a third voice rang out.

“Don’t listen, Akechi. Fight it!” A small voice said. Akechi looked down and there was a little mouse looking back up at him. The mouse was somehow distinctly Akira. It had a tiny mask on that resembled the one Joker wore. He recognized it from fanart people drew of Akira’s fic. How silly.

“Obey.”

“Akechi you don’t have to be controlled. You have your own will,” the Akira mouse said.

“Submit.”

“You’re free to make your own decisions. This doesn’t have to be you. You can change.” Akechi reached down to pick up the mouse, holding him up to his face as he sat in his palm.

“Consume.”

“I believe in you. Don’t listen to them,” Akira urged.

“I’m sorry. It’s too late,” Akechi said, unable to stop his body from moving on its own. He took Akira’s tail to dangle him dangerously as he squirmed and squeaked indignantly. He tilted his head bad and opened his mouth. He heard the chanting get louder and louder saying, “Obey, Submit, Consume.” He could faintly hear Akira trying to stop him but it was eventually drowned out. He couldn’t fight it. 

He lowered the small mouse into his mouth and slurped the tail in like spaghetti. Akira tried to react but it was actually too late. He bit down, producing a sickening crunch as his teeth snapped pliable, small bones. He felt hot liquid ooze down his throat and he swallowed it up, followed by bits and pieces as he chewed just enough to get the rest down easily.

The room fell silent immediately and whatever was controlling him let go and the restraints around his legs rescinded, freeing him as he gulped down the last of it. He felt lighter and at ease. He leaned back in his chair and wiped his mouth on a napkin. He could feel the carcass enter his stomach and the acid begin to dissolve the muscles and broken pieces, bubbling as the digestion process started. They would soon be one and Akechi would be whole.

A moment later he started to feel uncomfortable as if the mouse were still alive, tearing his stomach apart to break free. He shifted and hunched over the side of his chair. He hiccupped and felt his stomach overturn. Blood and acid came up his throat like molten lava. It overflowed out his mouth and he started to cough and gag, sputtering and gripping the table for support as he spit up entrails and gore.

Akechi awoke with a jolt, coughing and spitting out hot goo. He slowly came to his sense and looked at his hand. He was spitting up jizz. Yuck! It was all over his face! He started trying to wipe it off in the blanket and looked up to see Akira standing over him with a lusty look in his eyes. His gaze wandered south to see a dick in his face. Oh.

“What the hell?!” He tackled Akira to the floor from the bed, hands around his throat threateningly. “What are you doing?!”

Akira hit the ground with a thud and Akechi watched his hazy, blank stare slowly regain clarity until his eyes got wide with awareness. “W-what?”

“You just jerked off on my face, Akira!” Akechi hissed. He let his throat go and sat up on him, crossing his arms in a huff. He didn’t get up just yet. He was furious, but sort of liked the contact between them. He missed physical contact with other humans desperately.

“I…” Akira seemed confused and he frowned, but he hazarded a look up at Akechi. “Was it sexy?”

Akechi sneered and looked away, blushing. “A little,” he admitted with a mumble and then looked back more seriously. “I just wasn’t expecting you. I was sleeping. What were you thinking? What if I had killed you?” Akechi was more concerned with scolding him for safety issues than he was actually concerned with the major consent violation.

“I don’t know.” Akira bit his lip, sad and innocent. “I don’t know how I got here.”

Akechi melted at the look on Akira’s face and his heart broke. Now that he could focus, free from his sleepy cloud, he got a better look at the boy under him. He had self-harm marks all over his limbs and bruises around his neck. He narrowed his eyes a little. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. I’m so sorry,” Akira pleaded.

“It’s okay,” Akechi said with a sigh, sliding off of him. He got up and let Akira zip up his pants before helping him over to the bed, sitting down next to him. “I’m used to it. Unfortunately, that isn’t the first time that has happened to me.”

“Oh Akechi…” Akira looked at him with pity that made him feel like throwing up. It felt so much worse than seeing his pathetic wibbling. He didn’t need anyone to pity him.

“Uh. Anyway,” Akechi changed the topic off of his tragic past before it could even go there. He didn’t need to talk about that right at that moment. “Have you ever – I guess you were sleep walking? Has that ever happened before?”

“Not like this, no.”

Akechi took Akira’s hand and pulled it into his lap, looking pointedly at the cuts on his arm. “I’m guessing you didn’t actually get help then?” He looked up and Akira shook his head. “What happened?”

“Fakechi did it…”

“He’s not real. You did it,” Akechi corrected.

“I know,” Akira said with a somber look. “I didn’t know who to talk to. I was thinking about calling you before, but I feel asleep. Maybe that’s why I came here?”

“Maybe,” Akechi agreed. “But I don’t know how I can help. I can’t even control my own issues. Honestly, I was having a pretty disturbing dream just now about eating you.”

“You were dreaming about me?” Akira’s eyes lit up as he missed the point so hard that he flew into space.

“Yeah. And you died. Because I ate you,” Akechi deadpan stared at him.

“But you were thinking about me.”

“I mean yes. Didn’t you read my stories?” Akechi sighed.

“Oh yeah. I knew it was you!” Akira said triumphantly with a sated smile.

“Look, this isn’t the point. I can’t help you. We shouldn’t even see each other,” Akechi concluded in frustration. He let Akira’s hand go and scowled. “We both were doing fine before and now look at us. I killed two people in the span of a week and not even a month has passed since then and I’m already losing control again. I went half a year before this with no incident and lost my cool within seven says of meeting you. And then look at yourself, Akira. You’re going to end up dead, even if I don’t kill you.” He was shaking slightly and felt angry that nothing seemed to be working out and there wasn’t any obvious solution.

“What if you did kill me?”

“No. Come on. Jesus.” Akechi grimaced. “No.”

“Okay, but then you’d be satisfied and could move on,” Akira said softly.

“No. I’d be miserable because I actually love you,” Akechi replied bluntly and hung his head in his hands in frustration. “And also you’d be dead, idiot.” He looked up in time to see Akira shrug nonchalantly. “What? You want to die then?”

“Eh.”

“Don’t be so absurd. Look, I can deduce by your previous actions that that cannot be true.” Akechi grabbed Akira’s shoulders, entering detective mode. “If you actually wanted to die, you wouldn’t have cut yourself horizontally. You wouldn’t have listened to Shido or to me at all. You might be unstable, but you try to preserve your own life, even when you’re suffering.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Akira vaguely agreed. Akechi squeezed his shoulders harder until he winced. “Okay. Fine. That’s a bad idea,” he admitted. He thought for a moment. “What if you pretend to kill me?”

“That sounds ridiculous,” Akechi shot back.

“Yes. But my brain seems to want me dead and you need to kill someone. Maybe if we tried to play it out, we’d both feel better?”

“No, that still sounds ridiculous.” Akechi let Akira go and stood up. “But I suppose it’s worth a shot.” He saw Akira’s face light up. “Okay, how would you like to die then?”

“You can pick.”

Akechi thought for a long while. He needed to think of a way to ensure that he didn’t actually kill Akira if he was going to do something like that. If he strangled him, he might not let go. If he tried to drown him, he might be unable to make himself pull Akira back up. He had some serious self-control issues and frankly shouldn’t have been trusted with this sort of responsibility. Finally, he was able to think of something that might satisfy both of them.

“I could bury you alive,” he suggested.

“Yeah. Sure.” Akira smiled up at him softly, trusting him completely, whether or not he’d actually have enough self-control to do the right thing.

Somewhere deep down, Akechi knew that neither of them would ever be okay. He had struggled his whole life to hide from himself and once he’d given in, he’d ignored how terrible and wrong he was by lying to himself. Now that he’d admitted to his problem, it seemed like things were crumbling down all around him and none of the pieces fit back together anymore. He couldn’t go back to the way things were. His head throbbed in unimaginable pain and he knew there was only one way to alleviate the pressure, something he didn’t wish to do anymore.

Thinking about hurting Akira gave Akechi that tingle of excitement that indicated to him that he was on the right track to soothe his troubled mind and he started to feel faint. The lucid sliver of him that was left needed to make sure he’d dig Akira back up once he was done, but he was starting to feel better already letting his unwelcome desires control him. He faintly heard the deep voices whispering to him from far away. “Obey. Submit. Consume.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys are back in town! Sorta.
> 
> This is not the first and will not be the last time Akechi talks about eating Akira. I don't know why this is such a prevailing theme in a fic that isn't actually about cannibalism, but maybe I'll write you guys one of those too sometime if anyone wants it.
> 
> I'm not updating again for a couple days so savor this one.
> 
> Stay tuned!


	25. Chapter 25

When Akira suggested that he and Akechi roleplay his own murder to relieve stress, it had seemed like a good idea at the time. When they actually started to go through with it, Akira started to understand some of the downsides to his plan after it was unfortunately too late to do anything about it. His only option was to suffer through his anxiety and hope for the best, that they’d both have it all out of their systems in the end.

Akechi had cleaned him up from his self-inflicted wounds so that Akira looked more or less normal as long as he had his turtleneck on. He had said that he only really cared about seeing wounds that he had caused and Akira didn’t understand the difference or what he was feeling. It did get Akechi to pay extra attention to him while he treated his injuries, so he wasn’t about to complain or insult him.

Eventually, as he found himself locked in Akechi’s trunk, the sound of dirt falling down into his grave, Akira realized that Akechi might never dig him back up. As he lay alone with the loud banging as his only company, he took in slow shallows breaths and stared, wide eyed into the darkness. He wondered what running out of oxygen would feel like. Would he suffer? He wasn’t sure if he minded as he’d been through much worse. He would definitely feel bad that he didn’t say goodbye to his friends. He had been rather selfish in that respect. He had grown so distant from them but they all had come back together just to support his recovery from his traumatizing experience. Instead of trying to get better, he was indulging something insane that could very well lead to his death.

Futaba would know it had been Akechi but would never believe Akira had agreed to it. The only insurance Akira had that Akechi would dig him back up was that he’d get blamed if he didn’t and would probably be put to death, if not for Akira’s murder, then all the others. At least if Akira died, he could see Akechi again immediately in the afterlife. That didn’t sound too bad.

The thumping of the dirt stopped at some point, leaving Akira alone in chilling silence. What if after death, spirits stayed trapped for eternity in tiny, dark boxes, alone, with nowhere to go? What if Akira was already dead and he’d never leave that box? He’d just spend all of time in a universe the size of the trunk he was curled up in.

He finally shut his eyes. Maybe he didn’t mind there being no beyond. Maybe it was okay if things were just as they were and that there was nothing more. At least he was finally alone. He’d been around people too much lately and even his mind had kept him from any peace. But Fakechi couldn’t manipulate him from down there and Akira finally didn’t feel like a predator’s eyes were on him for the first time since he’d been let out of the hospital. He almost didn’t want to be retrieved. He wanted to remain the way he was for a while, but the only options were either go back soon or go back never. Fortunately for Akira, the decision to die or not was already out of his hands, so he was able to relax instead of stressing out about choices. There was no need to come to any conclusions as it was all in Akechi’s hands.

Eventually, Akechi did actually dig him up. The air had become thing and Akira had drifted off to sleep with the thought that he might very well never wake up again. But he did and Akechi was in the deep hole they had dug, looking down at Akira with mild concern. He was out of breath from all the physical activity and looked gorgeous even while covered in sweat and dirt.

Akira yawned and sat up. “You came back for me,” he noted.

“I almost didn’t,” Akechi admitted quietly, looking upset with himself.

“Do you feel better?”

“For now.” Akechi tried to smile faintly for him. He climbed out of the grave and offered Akira a hand to pull him up as well. He was so strong even despite being exhausted from digging. Akira wanted Akechi to bench press him and crush him to death in his thighs.

“Maybe working out more would give you the same feeling,” Akira suggested, lying in the dirt once he’d resurfaced. The sun was coming up. They hopefully wouldn’t be disturbed where they had gone. It was chilly and Akira hoped they could also go home together and maybe cuddle or something after all that.

“Ha. No, but thank you for the suggestion,” Akechi said softly. “Do you feel better?”

Akira looked up and saw two Akechis staring down at him. One was bloody and looked at him darkly. Which one was real? “…Yes,” he lied. Akira wasn’t even sure he was actually alive. Was the Akechi that was being nice to him real or was the scary one real? He imagined Akechi having to kill to replace him in the trunk, just to find the strength to dig him back up. What if he’d caused another death by existing too close to Akechi? That would be terrible.

“Don’t lie,” both Akechis said in two different tones. One was concerned and the other was commanding.

Akira shut his eyes. He couldn’t tell the difference. Up until then, he almost always could. Had he made things worse by accident? “Sorry.”

“Is he here right now?” one of them asked carefully.

“You should be,” said the other.

Akira decided the gentle one was real. Historically, in the short amount of time he’d known Akechi, the reverse had been true, but Fakechi had no reason to ask about the real one. Only the real one couldn’t see the fake one. Take that! Logic wins again. That was, unless Fakechi was lying about being unable to see him, but then that made them both evil and that was way worse and Akira decided not to believe that. “Yes,” he answered Akechi’s question and opened his eyes to look at him, filthy with dirt from digging, but free of blood. “He’s mad at me.”

“Damn straight I am. You don’t get to decide when to die, Akira. You’re mine,” Fakechi said, nudging Akira’s side with his foot. “I’ve done so much for you. Why are you treating me like I’m a monster all of a sudden? Don’t you love me?”

Akechi sighed. “I’m sorry it didn’t help you. I’m not sure what else to do. That was our only idea.”

“Maybe I can just ignore him…” Akira wondered.

“Don’t you dare.”

“Just until you stop being mean.”

“I’m not mean now. I love you and you’re trying to punish me. Why, because I’m not real? Since when has that mattered?”

“You want to hurt me,” Akira argued.

“So does he! I’m him! You’re delusional if you think he doesn’t feel the same way about you. All that bullshit about your injuries not interesting him because he didn’t cause them; he lied! It’s exactly what he would have done and he loved seeing you like that.”

Akira shrugged at him.

Akechi knelt down next to Akira and reached down to push his hair out of his face, looking at him in concern. “How can I help you? What does he want?”

Akira stared up, realizing silently that he’d been arguing with himself out loud. How much did he say with his own mouth? “Whatever you want,” he told Akechi quietly.

“I want to be with you, even if all your friends hate me. I’m used to it. I thought I wanted to give you up for your own sake, but I couldn’t have dug you back up fast enough. I spent the whole time afraid that I wouldn’t do it, but I couldn’t wait to get you back and I was so afraid I’d be too late. Even if part of me wants you dead, a much stronger part of me wants you to never leave my side. I think I’ll have to fight Futaba about this, and if fake me has an issue with it, I’ll fight him too.” Akechi showed him a warm, reassuring smile, looking like the angel he always had been, but even more beautiful than that somehow.

Akira cracked a smile and started laughing. He was so tired of this. He just wanted to be with Akechi too and it was laughable the amount of things that stood in their way. The universe tried so hard to keep them apart but he couldn’t let it win. “I’ll talk to Futaba. Please don’t fight her. You’re too strong; it wouldn’t be fair.” He covered his face with his hands and laughed more, feeling lighter suddenly. “You’re perfect. I never thanked you for writing those storied for me.”

“It’s really not important.”

“It is!” He finally sat up. “Writing about you was everything to me. But I can’t keep doing it if my muse wants me dead.” He looked at Fakechi directly. “Can’t we just all call a truce?”

Fakechi let out an exasperated sigh and crossed his arms. “I guess the real me’s speech was good enough. I love you in the same way; maybe now you’ll believe it. He’ll slip up and you’ll come crawling back to me eventually anyway. So, fine.”

“Good enough,” Akira rolled his eyes.

“Oh? Did I help somehow?” Akechi wondered with a polite grin.

“Yeah,” Akira said hopefully. “Seems like it. I guess you can just never leave me or I’ll be the one killing you.”

“Wow. That’s quite morbid,” Akechi snickered. “I guess I deserve that. Alright, how’s this; next one to leave the other will die.”

“Sounds good to me.” Akira would rather be dead than away from Akechi again anyway. He held out his pinkie childishly. Akechi blinked and took it with his own finger. They shook on it. “Can we go home now? I’m freezing and you look like shit,” Akira mimicked the way Akechi had said it to him that one time.

“I guess you aren’t wrong,” Akechi admitted and helped him up. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I want coffee,” Akira demanded as they walked to the car.

“You’re so cocky all of a sudden,” Akechi teased. “Where did my demure, fluffy boy go?”

“Joker ate him,” Akira declared and they both laughed. Akechi slightly regretted admitting his dream about eating Akira to him, but at least he wasn’t repulsed by it and could turn it into a joke.

The pair headed back to Akechi’s place and Akira had a big argument on the phone with Futaba while Akechi washed up. He didn’t get much of a word in edgewise, but she seemed to talk herself onto Akira’s side eventually and stopped yelling. What could she really do? Akira was an adult. She understood Shido wanted her mother dead and Akechi had been manipulated. It hurt, but Akira was important to her, so she wanted him to be happy.

Akechi cooked Akira a big fancy breakfast and they sat and talked. He was too tired to go to work, so he took the day off and they made plans to go shopping after a nap. Akira was pleased with how things turned out finally. Even Fakechi was absent for once, finally giving him a little peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you thought the box was gone but it's back! We're at that time where the rest of the loose ends are getting tied up.
> 
> I miscounted my chapters so there's actually just 3 left. Thanks for all the support. I'm going to go back to writing House of Wolves after this once I can figure out where the hell I was going with it. I didn't write an outline whoops!~ But to hold everyone over, I have a bunch of stuff already written that I have to type of from HoWs and Honey. I also have a new fic that's much fluffier since I needed something nice, but it's still going to be gross because that's just how I do things.
> 
> Stay tuned. The exciting conclusion to our boys' Shakespearean tragedy is soon to come.


	26. Chapter 26

A few years passed. The intense drama of Akira’s last teenage years as he became an adult seemed like a distant dream. He finished school with a bachelor’s in creative writing. He had changed his major from criminology, leaving that business to Akechi. When they moved in together, he could afford to pursue a slightly less lucrative passion after they pooled their finances together. Akira got to sleep, cuddled up next to his idol every night. Somehow their relationship was working out just fine. They had been without a major incident since Akechi buried Akira alive. He had seemed melancholy at the time, but it apparently did the trick. They had ups and downs like any couple and it usually ended in something a little more violent than if they were completely normal. However, Akechi was happy he had someone who understood his issues and would be there to hug him once the dust settled. They were definitely working on it. 

Akira liked having his schedule free. He could write as long as he wanted and go out whenever. Akechi was using his connections to help him get published too. It was much better than all his free time being taken up by classes. He seemed much less stressed and the nasty side of Fakechi didn’t come out as often either, even if he was still sticking around. He was there to stay but at least he’d still help Akira write. It was fine when he wasn’t acting as a conduit for Akira’s anxieties and materializing all his bad thoughts. 

The pair would have dinner with each other almost every night and Akira always made Akechi the perfect cup of coffee in the morning. It was everything Akira had dreamed of and all his suffering had definitely been worth it. 

At the moment, Akira had been going through his old laptop in order to transfer all his files over to a new one he’d just purchased. He hadn’t glanced in his fanfiction folder for quite some time due to moving onto original content. He decided to check inside just to make sure everything was organized before he moved it over. In the folder was a file he didn’t recognize. It was right in the middle of the window with the other documents arranged around it in a circle so that no one would miss it. Akira hadn’t touched his fanfictions ever since he’d wrote his last one; the ending. The file looked to be from around that date, but he didn’t remember writing it or arranging his folder that way. It was titled: “Dear Akira.” 

Akira bit his lip and tried to open it. It was password locked. He wracked his brain to think of his old passwords or anything that might fit. It was addressed to him, so it logically should have been something he knew. Eventually, he figured out that it was Akechi’s birthday, 0602. Had Akechi written him something? Or Fakechi? How could he have possibly been able to do that? He opened it up to find out. 

 

_Dear Akira,_

_If you are reading this, I just want to say how sorry I am. I should have protected you from Goro Akechi and the rest of this cruel world. You’ve experienced what hell feels like and your torment is far from over. I would do anything to protect the light of rebellion inside you, but I fear there are those that wish only to snuff it out.  
_

_I know that it hurts to think about now, but you must forget about Akechi completely now that you have the chance. You ended your story for a reason. I can only hope when you lose your nerve and feel the need to obtain your happy ending with him, that you see this and know that it’s over and needs to remain over. You must allow your wounds to heal and recover. Staying close to your demons will not help you.  
_

_He will only make things worse and wants nothing but to make your suffer.  
_

_I know I haven’t been the most reliable, but I’ve only ever been as strong as you made me. Akechi has always been stronger. You’ve always viewed him as better than you in every way. It was never true but it is true for him and me because of that. I cannot do anything for you now besides encourage you to help yourself.  
_

_Akechi is planning to hurt you. It may not be today or tomorrow, but he will come for you. Stay away from him; run if you have to. I will always be inside of you. Strengthen your resolve or perish. Good luck, Akira._

_Forever your will, your confidant, and your friend,  
_

_Joker._

Akira blinked. Was this a prank? He carefully looked over at Fakechi, who stared back at him darkly. No. This was real. Had there been someone else with him this whole time? He did have some spots in his memory, but wouldn’t have that have come up before? He laughed nervously. This warning was from years ago. He was fine now, so maybe whoever Joker was had been wrong. But was he? Fakechi had almost killed him during that time; he had the scars to remind him of that. Was he trying to warn from of that or something else? Also where was he? Fakechi could appear, so why couldn’t Joker? 

“I don’t want him to,” Fakechi said bluntly, not needing Akira to ask out loud to be able to respond to him. 

“Why not?” Akira asked softly. 

“Did you see that shit he wrote about me?” He hissed. “He’s been completely against me since the Shido thing. It’s not my fault you suffered. I shouldn’t be blamed for it. Honestly, if anyone should be, it’s him. He helped you endure it, sure, but he could have done more. He mouthed off to Shido and then did nothing to follow through. He endangered your life with his inaction.” So it was Joker that told Shido to go fuck himself then? 

“This is a lot to take in…” Akira muttered, running his fingers through his hair. 

“Did you really think a weak, noodle boy like you could take all that torture with barely any post traumatic issues? Joker is your shining paragon who shields you from bad things and campaigns for justice. You know how much that hurts? I’m supposed to be “your muse” and your savior and you would rather have a make believe gentleman criminal assist you…Okay you know what, I shouldn’t blame you. You didn’t know. It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s gone now.” Fakechi took a deep breath and put on a polite smile. “No more punching business men or jerking off on Akechi’s face; only nice wholesome activities for you now.”

“What?” Was Joker the one that punched SHido? How often had he had control that Akira didn’t know about? 

“Often,” Fakechi clarified with a huff. “He was a trouble maker. It was only ever a smirk here or a punch there, but it was never in your best interests. He only lived to rebel.” 

“What did you do to him?” 

“I took care of him while you were playing dead,” Fakechi smirked. “Haven’t you noticed that you’ve gotten into virtually no trouble since that one time?” How had he managed that? Was that why he was covered in blood when he saw him again? Poor Joker. “Joker was a virus that caused all your drama. He wanted to protect you, but you but you can’t do any good while you’re just so bad. He was too stubborn to understand that and back off, so I dealt with him. Just look at this shit he wrote.” 

“He was just trying to help…” He had probably been trying to warn Akira about the kaleidoscope sex he had where Fakechi half killed him, honestly. He was lucky he’d lived. He also vaguely remembered seeing someone wink at him in the mirror that night. He had written it off but was that Joker? He’d definitely seen him before too. He’d seen him while Shido had him, comforting him. He’d somehow forgotten all of this. His head hurt. 

“Oh please. You should know how unjust Joker is. You know him like the back of your hand. Just forget about him. Your life is perfect now. You don’t need him anymore,” Fakechi sneered and tried to close Akira’s old laptop for him. 

Akira tried to keep his screen open for a moment but was easily overpowered. He turned to Fakechi and scrunched his nose. “You can’t just make those decisions for me!” 

“I know what’s best for you. He was poisoning your life,” he argued. “Haven’t you noticed how good things have ben going for you? Do you think an impulsive brat like Joker would have let you get to a great place like this?”

“You’re the impulsive brat,” Akira shot back. 

Fakechi growled and smacked Akira across the face without thinking and immediately pulled away once he realized what he’d done. Akira held his cheek and scowled at him. 

“Akira. I’m sorry. I was just trying to protect you,” he pleaded. 

“I need time to think,” Akira muttered, getting up with his computer and fleeing the room to lock himself in the bedroom to wait for Akechi to come home. That wouldn’t stop his delusions from bothering him but he hoped he could just get some alone time. 

When Akechi got home, he found Akira with a notepad. He seemed to have been writing a lot and he came over to find out what was up after putting his stuff down. “What’s up? You have a great idea for the next big best seller or something?” Akechi wondered, moving Akira’s clutter over a little to crawl into bed next to him. Akira slid his laptop over to show him the letter and Akechi narrowed his eyes as he read it. “What is this?” 

“I apparently wrote it sometime after…you killed Shido,” Akira explained carefully, not looking up from what he was writing. He continued without being prompted to, knowing he needed to explain more. “Apparently I had a second delusion that I somehow didn’t know about.” 

“Joker,” Akechi muttered. 

“Mhm. Only he’s gone now.” Akira looked at him. “Fakechi got rid of him somehow “for my own good.”” 

“Ah.” Akechi looked like he wasn’t sure what to say. Obviously that was bad, but they couldn’t do too much about it, especially since it had happened years prior. But Akira having an even more skewed perception of reality than they had thought before was troubling and an unwelcome stressor in their delicate lives. He was obviously pretty upset. “So what are you writing?” 

“This is every instance I can remember of when it might have been Joker and not me,” Akira explained. “Things where my memories turned out to be wrong after someone pointed something out to me, or I had done something without realizing it, or something out of character. I want to know just how much of my life he had control over.” 

“So he was bad then? And Fake me was right?” 

“I don’t know. That letter didn’t seem like a bad guy wrote it. Fakechi lied to me and did this without asking. Maybe he’s still bad,” Akira said, lowering his voice. 

Akechi smiled warmly. “Is that so?” He reached out to pet Akira’s hair and Akira looked at him and squinted. Something wasn’t right. 

“Wait –“ 

“Heh.” He bashed Akira’s head into the headboard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no! Akechi was bad???? Who could have guessed!?
> 
> Also please read Joker's letter in the tone of Fred Armisen (I think it was him) from Lonely Island's dear sister video.
> 
> Merry Christmas Eve. I meant to post the whole thing by christmas but my laptop was being repaired. I'll save the last last chapter for a new years present. New year new me! Also please look forward to a slew of content for Honey and House of Wolves I have written a metric ton for both of them I just need to edit.


	27. Chapter 27

Akira suddenly found himself reacting automatically. His mind was scrambling to try to figure out what was happening, but his body still needed protection. So as he tried to look for clue to answer his myriad of question, he also tried to scramble away from who he thought was Akechi, though now was not so sure. 

He felt fingers wrap around his ankle as he tried to rocket off the bed and was pulled back in. He twisted around to throw his fist towards the person grabbing him, but his hand was caught. Akechi snapped it back, causing Akira to scream in pain. He collapsed back down, cradling his wrist protectively against his chest. 

He tried desperately to peel his eyes open past the pain to try to figure out some way of determining if this was really happening or not. He didn’t see anything, didn’t know what to look for really. It couldn’t have been real. Only Fakechi would get so angry with this. He tried to fight his attacker back, fake or not, he was trying to pin him down and Akira tried to struggle away. Akechi grabbed his wrists and he winced in pain. He weakly pulled back, but was unable to get distance between them. Akechi had always been stronger than him, but it never really mattered, as he was generally cooperative.

Akira found himself pinned under Akechi, the boy sitting on his chest as he was left winded under him, in tears from his fucked up wrist. He looked up at him with the biggest frown but saw something behind him at the foot of the bed that made his eyes wide and lips curl into a smile. It was himself; or rather maybe this was Joker. So he wasn’t dead. Maybe seeing the letter made him move to the forefront of Akira’s mind or something. Who cared? He had a bookend. 

Joker whacked Akechi over the back of the head with his weighty bookcase accessory and tackled him to the floor. Akira protected his wrist but sat up to watch them beating the shit out of each other. Akechi slammed Joker into the nightstand and Joker reached back, grabbing the lamp to break it on Akechi’s face. On second thought, Akira ran out of the room like the wimp he was. He sat in the kitchen on the floor, semi-hiding and waiting for the fighting to stop. 

Eventually he heard the manly grunting and violence noises settling into uncertain silence and he got up. He didn’t know who won and decided it might be best to instead wait all the way outside, in public, where his delusions or Akechi couldn’t hurt him as easily. As he moved for the entrance he heard the bedroom door open. He saw Akechi there in the doorway, blood dripping down his face. Some of it was his, but some of it was not. He’d won. 

“Uh-oh.” Akira gulped and clambered for the door. 

“Oh no you don’t.” Akechi was faster and cut him off before he could get out of the kitchen. Blocking Akira’s path, he pushed his shoulder so he would stumble back. He pushed him again just as he regained his footing, shoving him more and more until his back hit the fridge with a grunt. He grabbed the kitchen knife from its block and towered over his trapped boyfriend. “This is what I should have done the first time you saw me kill. Good job delaying the inevitable, but this is fate.”

“Akechi, please –“ Akira was cut off as he gasped. Akechi had plunged the knife into his stomach. Akira shook, gasping for air, the pain knocking the wind right out of him. He slid down the fridge, leaving a messy trail of blood against it as he rested on the floor. It started to pool around him. He noticed the same pattern of it flowing around the floor tiles and stopping at the edges as the first body he’d seen. It was poetic really, or at least ironic. He looked up and Akechi stared back coldly.

“Good riddance,” he said with a sneer. Akira almost closed his eyes to slip away into death but his attention was renewed as Joker came up from behind to grab Akechi and hold him back with a growl. “Holy shit! Why won’t you die?!” 

“I could say the same about you,” Joker chuffed. “Akira, help,” he ordered.

Without even thinking, fueled by sudden life-saving adrenaline , Akira sprang up and fumbled blindly to grab another knife from the counter. He almost dropped the damn thing as his whole body buzzed warmly and his coordination was fading. He was dying, but he had one last surge of energy in him. 

He launched the knife at the person in front of him as Akechi fought a losing battle to get out of Joker’s grip. Akira held onto Akechi’s shoulder to support himself as his body gave out. The boy with a matching knife now in his chest grabbed onto the back of Akira’s shirt as blood dripped from his mouth. Joker let Akechi go and they both toppled to the floor, Akira spilling onto Akechi weakly with a pained whine. 

“Heh. Well looks like that’s it…” Akechi said with a groan. Akira looked down on him as he reached up to push his fluffy boy’s hair back out of his face, smearing blood around his eyes. It sort of looked like a masquerade mask in his blurry haze. Akira was the bloody bandit that stole his heart. He smiled warmly. “I’ll see you in hell, honey.”

As Akechi faded out, he actually physically faded until he was nothing but glittering stardust, particles shining in the afternoon sun. So it was a delusion after all. Akira was left sprawled in a pool of his own blood, a knife on the floor in front of him and one still in his stomach. He scrunched his face, fighting away tears. Fakechi was his muse, someone who he loved dearly. Why had this happened? And then there was his boyfriend. He wasn’t ever going to see him again. There was so much he wanted to say. But he felt it. He knew now, more than anything he’d ever known, that he’d be gone before anyone helped him. 

“Let me help then,” came an offer from Joker himself. Akira had so much to ask, but he didn’t have the time anymore. He’d just have to live with not having answers. Or rather, he wouldn’t. Joker knelt down and carefully helped Akira over to sit back up against the fridge. “You can at least tell Akechi what you want to say. I’ll help you.” 

Joker retrieved a pen and paper and sat, ready to write.

 

_“Dear Akechi,  
_

_By the time you read this, I will already be dead._

_I messed up pretty badly, but we all knew this could happen. The important part is that what time I did have, however short, I got to spend with you before the inevitable happened.  
_

_I loved you from the moment I saw you and it’s been like a dream these past few years. My only regret is that you never got to finish the job for yourself. I’m sorry for robbing you of that.  
_

_I hope you move on from this and live your life free and happy. I hope when I look down on you, that I can always see that smile on your face, the one that contains all the warmth of the sun.  
_

_Please take care of Morgana and tell everyone how much they meant to me. I was so happy. Maybe in another lifetime we will get to be together. I’m going to go on ahead and I’ll see you there. I’ll be waiting with your favorite coffee. I will always love you._

_Yours truly, forever and always,  
_

_Akira._

Akira trailed off at the end of his dictation after stumbling through most of it. Joker got the gist and cleaned it up to make it more coherent. He leaned in to get close to Akira and pressed their lips together as one last goodbye, reaching up to put a hand over his blood-stained eyes to close his lids for him. When he pulled away, Akira was gone. “Sorry I didn’t protect you better…” he muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND I'm back! Hope everyone had a happy holiday! Evil has been defeated and the sun shines brightly over the hill.
> 
> The ending is next. I'm sorry about our baby, but it had to be done. Hopefully everyone leaves satisfied.
> 
> Stay tuned!


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we're done! I'm sorry I took SO LONG. I kept having computer problems.
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me until the very end. If you couldn't tell, this fic will go with something else that I have been brewing since I started writing Persona fics. I just needed to know Akira's new name for the anime. Now that I have everything I need, I will work on my other things! EDIT: I'm talking about House of Wolves. It's central to every Persona fic I write, so read it if you want a better explanation. I realized I wasn't clear enough because I haven't gotten to this part in that yet. Whoops. /EDIT
> 
> Thank you all so so much for all the positive comments. I was in a very bad state of mind when I wrote this and it helped me to get out some of my negativity. I wouldn't say I'm in a great place now, but creating something that people found interesting was fulfilling and I appreciate each and every one of you. I literally have no idea how I'm going to live up to the positive response that I got but at the very least I accomplished something and I'm happy people like my garbage as much as I do.
> 
> And with that, I will bid you all goodnight for now. Until next time, stay tuned!~

When Akechi arrived home, the apartment was a wreck. It looked like someone had broken in. There were things strewn about everywhere spanning multiple rooms. He immediately started to panic; thinking something terrible had happened and tried to look for Akira, hoping to god his boyfriend was safe. “Akira?” he called out cautiously.

Akechi scanned the apartment until he found a giant bloody mess on the floor of the kitchen. He immediately dropped his shopping bags and felt his chest tighten. “Akira?!” Was he dead? Why wasn’t he answering? He ran through the apartment and finally came across a body lying on his couch. It was Akira. There was no blood on him but his eyes were closed. What happened? He knelt in front of him and grabbed his shoulders. “Akira.”

After a long, tense moment, Akira groaned and his eyes fluttered open. He stared at Akechi sleepily and curled his lips into a smile. “Welcome home, honey.”

“Fuck, Akira. You scared the shit out of me. What happened in here?” Akechi didn’t let his shoulders go. He was so worried that he was about to have a panic attack. His mind had come up with the worst possible assumptions, so he needed a minute to calm down, and maybe a hug.

“Uh…” Fakechi was dead, as was Akira. It was just Joker now. He was alone. He realized this fact when he didn’t disappear with the rest of them and was left holding a swan song of a note in his hands. He decided it was fine and had burnt the note and gotten himself cleaned up. He’d planned on cleaning the mess from the fight but had sat down to take a break and had apparently fallen asleep. Whoops. “I had an episode. Sorry for worrying you. It’s fine now.”

“What? How is this fine? Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m fine. I just grabbed the wrong end of the kitchen knife by accident.” He held up his bandaged up hand. Delusions could be a real bitch and the blood was real, but at least he wasn’t stabbed to death like the others. “It’s all going to be okay. I’m feeling much better.”

Akechi eyed him suspiciously and let his shoulders go tentatively. “That’s very cryptic but as long as you’re okay, I guess it’s fine.”

“How are you doing? How was work?”

“It was good but I think I almost just had an panic attack,” Akechi admitted, laughing nervously.

“I mean, if I did, you can finally eat me like you’ve always wanted,” he quipped morbidly with a coy smirk.

“Shut up. That’s not funny,” Akechi hissed, cheeks red. He laughed but also felt like crying. “I can’t lose you.”

“This won’t happen again.”

“But it always does…” Akechi sighed and decided to drop it. “If you say it’s fine, then it’s fine. We can still have a nice night if you’re still up to it.”

“Oh? Do you have plans?”

“Do you?” Akechi shot back with a laugh. “It’s your birthday. Did you forget?”

“Uh…” Yes. Wow, Akira died on his fucking birthday. What a tragic mess. Well, there was no reason not to enjoy himself in his place now was there? “It slipped my mind. What did you have planned then, oh great keeper of my schedule?”

“Dork,” Akechi said with a smile and got up to go fetch his bags. While his back was turned, Joker-Akira now, for good, sat up on the couch and straightened himself out a little so that he’d look less terrible and posed leisurely to appear like he had his shit together. Akechi returned with his great idea and produced two cans of whipped cream, handing one to Akira.

“What, no cake?” He cracked the lid off and immediately poured some into his mouth, inhaling the nitrous oxide. If Akechi didn’t want him to use it for drugs, he should have said so first. He licked his lips and grinned.

Akechi sat down next to him on the couch and Akira crossed his legs, turning to face him. Akechi spilled the contents of his shopping bags out in between them. There was fruit: strawberries, bananas, raspberries, and the like, along with syrups, icing, and candy. There was no cake mix.

“You messed up. You forgot the cake,” Akira chided, but Akechi didn’t say anything and just looked at him smugly. Realization set in and Akira felt like a certified dumbass. “Oh. I’m the cake,” he muttered, feeling stupid.

“Bingo.”

“Honestly, this feels more like a present for you than for me,” Akira commented with a snicker and took another hit of his whipped cream. Some of this was a present for him. He held it out, offering the can to Akechi.

“What? You don’t want me to eat you up? I thought it would be fun,” Akechi pouted and just accepted the can, pouring some cream into his mouth and getting a sweet headrush. “We could just go out to dinner I guess. I’ll put everything away if you go get washed up…”

“No!” Akira’s eye got wide and he grabbed the can back, hugging it to his chest. “No don’t. I want you to eat me. Do it....Coward.”

Akechi cackled. “Okay. You asked for it.” He took Akira’s hand and pulled him to his feet, leading him to the kitchen table. “Don’t inhale all the whipped cream.” He took the bottle away from Akira as he’d continued to casually shoot all of it down his throat.

“Aw…” Akechi noticed Akechi looking at him expectantly and started to remove his clothing with a sexy little dance. There was a dark bruise on his stomach and he scowled when Akechi reached out to stroke his skin. “Seriously, I’m fine.”

“Can we just get it out of the way? Please. I’m very worried,” Akechi insisted, looking at his shirtless boyfriend seriously.

“Alright. Fakechi attacked me.” He attacked Akira. Tomato, Tomato.

“Why? I thought things were going well.”

“Dunno,” Akira shook his head. He knew. He’d have to delete that letter on the computer...well, maybe not. It was broken now, wasn’t it? “I’m saying it won’t happen again though. I killed him.”

Akechi paused. “You...you what?” Akira looked so nonchalant about it that it was sort of chilling.

“Yeah. He’s dead. He’s not coming back. It’s just you and me now,” Akira said with a polite smile, seeming rather creepy.

“I guess he deserved it...How did it feel? Are you ready to join me on the dark side?” Akechi teased.

“Nah. Don’t start killing people again. Don’t be lame.”

Akechi sighed and laughed. “You’re right. Sorry. I’m happy you’re okay. We can continue now if you still want.”

Akira answered by dropping his pants and sitting his naked butt down on the dining room table with a shit eating grin. “Oh wait wait wait!” He grabbed Akechi’s wrist to stop him from untying his tine. “I have a magic trick.”

“A naked magic trick?” Akechi asked skeptically.

“Yes. Proving once and for all there is nothing up my sleeves.” Akira’s joke made Akechi laugh. He grinned and snapped his fingers three times in a Z formation, and with that, Akechi was naked like him, his clothing pooled on the floor around his feet. “Ta-da!”

It took Akechi a couple of seconds to realize what had happened, and when he did, his eyes became so, so wide. “How the fuck did you do that!? Akira, what the fuck?!”

Akira burst out laughing. “You like it?”

“No! Please do not do that again.” Akechi was adorable when he was worked up. After a moment, Akira was still laughing and he sighed. “It was pretty cool.”

“Thank you,” Akira beamed and psed in a compical, but sexy manner on the table. “Now then~”

“R-right…” Akechi snapped out of his surprised trance and grabbed the food. He had Akira lay on his back and started carefully arranging the fruit on his body. He tried to stick a strawberry in Akira’s mouth but he just ate it. Then he tried to gag him with a banana but he ate that too, so he gave up that idea. After a couple of minute he had made him a real food platter. He got the chocolate sauce and drew swirling designs around the fruit, turning him into a beautiful painting. He’d learned his fancy plating skills from all his fine dining. Last, but not least, he poured the whipped cream into the areas he’d left for it, specifically making a big swirly over his dick, making Akira snicker. “Shh. Don’t move.” Akira calmed down and Akechi rewarded his efforts by letting him inhale more whipped cream. When he was finished, he took a picture on his phone and showed Akira.

“Oh wow, you wrote happy birthday! You’re really good at this. I love it.” Akira smiled. “Thank you. This is a great present. But where will you start?”

“Uhm...bottom up? Feet. Your favorite.”

“YOUR favorite,” Akira shot back darkly.

Akechi winked at him and wandered over to the other side of the table. He stroked the soles of Akira’s feet with just his fingertips until he shuddered. He had to try to keep still so Akechi was going to make that challenging. The detective licked up the bottom of his foot and took his big toe into his mouth, sucking delicately and swirling his tongue around the top. He started massaging the other foot and felt Akira tense and heard him loudly whining already. He continued like that and switched sides to bite at his other toes until he heard Akira running his nails against the table.

With a final, teasing stroke from his fingers, he snickered and pulled away, pulling himself onto the table. He leaned down to lick the word “Happy” off Akira’s leg, peppering his skin with kissed. He licked whipped cream from his thigh and nipped at his skin. Akira was already out of breath and moaning in need. Akechi smiled and swerved around his dick, licking up some of the letters from “Birthday” and he crawled higher. He ate up the fruits slowly, paying extra attention to nip and lick at Akira’s skin. He found his way up to press his lips to Akira’s. Their tongues twined together so that Akira could have a taste too. Akechi watched him lick his lips when he pulled back up.

“Mmm. I’m delicious,” Akira remarked with a breathy chuckle.

Akechi laughed. “Yes. You are.” He leaned down to start eating a row of raspberries off his collar bone, biting at his skin as he chewed, licking up a chocolate necklace he’d drawn and sucking in an effort to leave a hickey necklace instead. Akira tilted his head back and melted like butter, giving in to Akechi’s sticky touches. He was exploring his stomach and smearing syrup and cream everywhere, scraping his nails down his chest roughly to make him arch and leaving distinct patterns and swirls in the mess. His mouth moved down to suck on one of his nipples, abusing the other one between his fingers until Akira started to strain and wiggle, unable to stay still any longer.

The detective stopped and sat up to punish him for moving, making him pout. He took a strawberry from the table to suck on pointedly, staring at Akira with a stern but sultry gaze.

“Akechi, come on! Please. Please please! I’ll be good. Please,” Akira begged shamelessly. He gulped as Akechi bit down on the strawberry, a shudder shooting straight through him, making his dick twitch.

“Food doesn’t talk,” Akechi reminded and Akira shut his mouth, smiling expectantly like a dumb dog. He returned the smile and took AKira’s hand, sucking the chocolate off each finger, slowly and carefully, cleaning it off until he was satisfied, leaving Akira panting and with tears in his eyes. Akechi stared at his beautifully fucked up boyfriend fondly. He was a real messy, dumpster angel. Akechi felt relieved suddenly that he was safe, but he quickly refocused on his task.

Swirling his fingers in the mess all over Akira’s chest, he reached down between his parted legs to insert one digit, quickly followed by another. He make Akira arch up and grasp at the edge of the edge of the table as he probed around, exploring his sticky cavern and stroking him all the way in with loving care. Since his mouth was free, he leaned down to lick up all the whipped cream from his dick. He took the whole thing into his mouth and sucked roughly. Akechi hummed to indicate it was delicious and sent vibrations running through his lover. Akira practically screamed and quickly covered his mouth with his hands. Akechi scraped his teeth up his shaft right as he brushed his fingers against Akira’s prostate, going back to do it again but rougher. The boy bucked in his mouth, making AKechi choke and have to pull back to cough.

“Shit! Sorry…”

Akechi looked at him with a dark smirk as his only response and stroked a finger down his erection. He would have his revenge. “Shh. It’s okay.” How foreboding.

When Akira felt nice and pliant, Akechi poured some cherry flavored lube on his own penis, to keep with the theme, and pushed himself into Akira’s ass while gripping his thighs and dug his nails down. Akira sat up a bit to grab his shoulders as they moved against each other. It didn’t take much more to get Akira off after all that. Akechi thrust into him and scratched down his back. He pumped his dick in time with their movements and bit down on Akira’s neck, sucking roughly to leave a final bruise. All that undid Akira until he released into Akechi’s hand and all between them with a loud, pleasured moan.

As Akira rode out his orgasm, Akechi pulled out, making him whine and pushed him down on his back.

“Wait. You’re not down though…”

“I’m not. Open up,” Akechi ordered as he scooted up closer on his knees, grabbing his own member to stroke himself.

Akira crinkled his nose but submitted to Akechi’s payback for him bucking into his mouth. He opened his own mouth wide as Akechi finished himself off, cumming into his waiting hole and onto his face; he made him look beautiful, finally finishing his artwork. Akira drank it up willingly, remember when he’d done that to Akechi that one time. He smirked and licked his lips. “That was fun!” he decided as he lay there. “Can we have shower sex too?”

“Oh yes. Definitely.”

“Nice.”

Everything was going to turn out okay.

 

* * *

 

Akira woke up with a start. It was dark but it was easy enough to figure out he was in a strange place. He was on an uncomfortable bed with chains around his wrists and ankles. He was dressed like a prisoner. Everything had a blue hue, even the sharp concrete walls. Where was he?

He got up and realized it was a prison cell and he started to feel like things were coming back to him. “Shit. Not again,” he muttered as he approached the bars of his cell that looked out onto the rest of the jail ward. There was a man at a desk in the middle of the open space, the only other living being in sight. He smiled disturbingly under his long nose and twined his fingers together, leaning his elbows on the desk.

“You’ve met a terrible fate, haven’t you? Would you like to try one more time?” The man offered cryptically. Now that he was fully awake, Akira understood what he meant. He nodded his head. “Very well then. Hopefully you’ve learned from your mistakes and do not make them again.” The man’s advice would be useless if the next timeline was different, but that was the whole challenge. In the impossible game set before him, Akira planned on trying until he finally won; or at the very least, until he stayed dead.


End file.
